


Enamored

by chaosmuppet



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Alternate Universe - Elf, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emperor Chrollo, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gon and Chrollo are Siblings, Hanahaki Disease, High Fantasy, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nymph Gon Freecs, Pining, Pining Gon Freecs, Pining Killua Zoldyck, Protective Gon Freecs, Royal Gon Freecs, Royal Killua Zoldyck, Royalty, Soulmates, Swords & Sorcery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosmuppet/pseuds/chaosmuppet
Summary: After Emperor Chrollo conquered the Zoldyck's territory, he took the last two remaining heirs as insurance for their father's loyalty. Now stuck in the Emperor's palace, Killua and Alluka must navigate this territory carefully, which should have been simple—had the Emperor's youngest brother not fallen completely and hopelessly in love with Killua.Prince Gon is the illegitimate child of the Empress prior to Chrollo. Born a half-nymph, Gon experiences the world with heightened intensity, which also means that he experiences love to a higher degree. Gon becomes completely smitten with Chrollo's newest "hostage": Killua Zoldyck.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 17
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

“I would like to reiterate—you will _not_ be treated as prisoners. As long as you are with us, you will serve as our guests.” 

Killua had difficulty believing anyone these days, and it didn’t come as a surprise considering his current _position_. He felt like his hands were tied behind his back, but that just wasn’t the literal case. His heritage might have had something to do with what made him so invaluable, but his sister was in the same boat as him. At least he wasn’t going through partial-disownment on his own.

Alluka had a better understanding of her emotions than Killua did, which only made Killua feel immature for feeling so vulnerable. It certainly didn’t help that Alluka was the younger of the two—wasn’t _Killua_ supposed to uphold some sense of authority as Alluka’s older brother? 

But Alluka was more worldly than Killua was, and he could thank their eldest brother for that. Unlike Alluka, Killua had been coddled and held closer to home. Their family was quick to send Alluka off—she became well-traveled in her adolescence before returning home to learn their father’s trade, all while Killua was stuck with the short stick. Second-to-youngest in line for the now-nonexistent throne. It meant that Killua spent less time at home and more time living elsewhere, closer to the garrison where his general lived. He spent all his time there learning things that didn’t interest him one bit. The more he learned, the less he cared for it.

“I’m surprised Father sold us off like that,” Killua huffed under his breath. One of the Emperor’s respected hands was ahead of them, chatting about the architecture. Alluka seemed interested up until the point Killua spoke—Killua wouldn’t have been surprised if Alluka _was_ actually interested in architecture.

“I’m far from surprised,” she whispered in a dry tone, hands clasped behind her back. She followed up in a thoughtful tone, humming under her breath before saying, “But I wouldn’t classify it as ‘sell’. More like… ‘ _lent’_.”

They turned the corner of a set of pristine white pillars. It was far from their home country’s gothic design. It was the farthest Killua had ever been from home.

“Do you really expect to see him again?” Killua remarked quietly, raising an eyebrow at his sister as the man ahead of them went on and on talking about the garden they stood on the brink of. It was dark out, as they could all see through the glass that domed over their heads. The framework of the ceiling windows crossed shadows over the exotic plants, and trapped in the heat like a greenhouse. Killua could feel the collar of his shirt suffocating him.

“Of course I do—since he agreed to the Emperor’s terms, he’s required to visit bi-yearly for in-person briefings—”

“Ah, yes, we get to see Father _twice a year_. Whoop-di-doo,” Killua said sarcastically, twirling his finger around in the air before crossing his arms. “Couldn’t he have given the Emperor… I don’t know, _the family dog?_ ” 

Alluka gave him a flat look, opening her mouth to reply when the servant raised his voice to ask a question, “Would you two prefer that we finish the tour in the morning? It _is_ rather late.”

“That… seems like a good idea,” Alluka agreed, glancing up at the moon overhead as Killua rolled his eyes. 

As the man showed them to their separate rooms, Killua figured he wouldn’t even _be here_ had the Emperor not threatened their Father with a forceful swear to allegiance. The Emperor started his reign with threats against smaller nations that turned into violence, gradually scaling up in size until his conquered territory exceeded that of the main continent’s established colonies. Those threats of violence turned into pleas for mercy, so now there really wasn’t any reservation when he poised the question: “ _Do you pledge your loyalty to me, or would you rather die?_ ” 

Some instances were more delicate than others—his feud with Killua and Alluka’s country started with war, and turned into a “peaceful alliance,” with the main stars being Killua and Alluka as hostages in exchange for their Father’s loyalty. 

So long as their Father remained loyal to the Emperor, no harm would come to them, and eventually, they might even get to go home.

Killua was sure he had the worst luck ever.

When the servant showed them to their rooms, he ended with opening Alluka’s door and saying, “If you need anything, the guards shouldn’t be too far away.”

“I should hope not,” Alluka laughed, taking a look around the room. Killua was just next door, and he _knew_ the moment the girl left, Killua would be hammering on his door for more questions and explanations. “And… if I need to ask for you specifically?” he inquired.

“Then you can ask for Kurapika. If you have any questions for Emperor Chrollo, you can send them through me,” Kurapika said with a soft smile before turning and heading out into the hallway.

Kurapika didn’t make it very far before he was turning a corner, and ramming straight into the bane of his existence. 

Kurapika yelped, clasping a hand over his mouth as he squeaked, “ _Gon!_ Stop sneaking up on me like that!”

“Why? Sneaking is in my blood.”

“No it isn’t. That doesn’t even make any sense,” he said, completely composed. He straightened the front of his tunic and attempted to maneuver around Gon. 

Gon only backtracked and blocked Kurapika’s path. When he turned to the side, Gon cornered him into the wall with a cheeky grin. “Gon, please, I have to report to your brother—”

“Aw, aren’t I important?” he whined, grinning when Kurapika clenched his fists at his sides. It wasn’t every day Kurapika broke composure. “I was wondering what you know about Silva’s kid.”

“Which one,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “In case you couldn’t see with your _shit vision_ , there’s two of them here.”

“The, uh, the older one. Closer in age, good in combat, beautiful white hair…”

“Seems like you know enough to me,” he said, poised and uppity as always. “Now out of my way.” 

Kurapika shoved him so hard he lost his balance. He took off at a near-jog, trying not to worry the guards in the process. Still, Gon caught up to him—damn his fast legs. The fact that Kurapika was in heeled boots didn’t exactly help his pace, either. If he took off running, Gon would be able to follow the sound of his heels for a mile. 

Gon trailed along beside himand said, “What’s your impression of him?”

“Snarky, rude, and _not thrilled about this_. Don’t make it harder on him,” Kurapika said, eyes ahead.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t make it better?” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. Gon retained an ounce of his composure back with a slight frown, which only made Kurapika regret having said anything.

Kurapika sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as they passed the garden. He was always so thrilled to show their guests the garden, but it didn’t help that the youngest son of Silva equated his visiting privileges with imprisonment. 

“Look, Gon—I know Killua has a reputation, but can you just go easy on the guy? It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t take too kindly to Emperor Chrollo, so it’s likely that your brother will have guards on him constantly. The last thing he needs is you nagging him trying to get into his pants,” Kurapika said.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll be _so_ easy on the guy,” Gon said with a flourish of his hands, which just ended in Kurapika groaning in his hands for Gon to shut up.

Killua’s reputation was _exactly_ why Gon wanted this so much more than Kurapika apparently did. He heard so many rumors about Emperor Silva’s youngest son that he had been thrilled to see the man for himself. And _fuck_ , did Killua live up to the expectations or _what?_

Gon had never fallen so hopelessly for someone in his entire life, which was really saying something considering who his best friend was. Knuckle was _quite_ the specimen, but Gon was more than positive that Killua’s taste in men was far more favorable than Knuckle’s, considering Knuckle was as straight as they came. 

When it came to talking to Gon’s brother, he decided to accompany Kurapika as they climbed the steps up to Chrollo’s wing of the palace. 

It was far from where the guests stayed, and heavily guarded at the entrance where they were met with gold-detailed tiles and wall borders, chandeliers and expensive, handmade tapestries. He always loved his brother’s quarters, and didn’t mind lounging in one of his floor pillows while Kurapika sat at the tea table with Chrollo.

Gon perked up at every mention of Killua, but overall, he zoned out and stared at the ceiling. There were a few problems with Gon being who he was, and it was more or less entirely dependent on his heritage—or lack-thereof.

Chrollo inherited their mother’s position earlier than anyone expected, and it was all due to Gon’s birth as the main complication. Their mother’s pregnancy was unexpected and strenuous, and with Chrollo’s biological father five years deceased, Gon had no parents. It was a blessing, really, because Chrollo’s newfound power gave him the ability to absolve Gon of his illegitimacy. It wasn’t long before Gon started showing signs of who his father could have been, and now there was no question. Chrollo’s mother had fallen in love with a nymph, and that was that.

There were some difficult aspects to being part-nymph, though, and Gon couldn’t ignore them. Nymphs were notorious daydreamers, with imaginations that ran wild before he could stop them. His memory was impeccable because of it—every experience he had was as vivid and brilliant as the day he first experienced it. They were full of color and opportunity that was hard for him to ignore, let alone forget. It was one thing for Killua’s reputation as The Most Beautiful Man to strike an average human’s heart, but a completely different scenario for a nymph like Gon to experience Killua’s beauty in person.

Seeing Killua had given Gon new purpose. The excitement hit Gon hard in the chest and turned his heart into a gooey mess that seeped across all parts of his body. The sticky sweetness of Gon’s abrupt love had him smiling sleepily in one of Chrollo’s floor pillows.

He thought only of Killua, and how they would spend the evening out on the oceanside. Gon would pick a dragon’s tongue flower and tuck it into Killua’s hair, and the image was so violently real that Gon could feel the dewey, violet petals touch his bare chest where he held a bouquet of them and…

“Gon, are you all right?” Chrollo’s voice broke through his reveries.

“Hm?” he hummed, his attention bleary, like he had just woken from a long, satisfying nap. 

“Are you daydreaming again?” he asked, head tipped to the side. He had his hair spun up into a tight bun, so Gon could see the gleam of his golden earrins that curved along the entirity of his earlobe. They pointed at the ends, highlighting the elvish ears they both received from their mother. 

Chrollo stood and reached for Gon’s hands. “Come on. Up, up,” he said, tugging him by the arm until he sat up.

He blinked away the image of Killua, and the flowers that were caught in the hand he held to his chest. They vanished, but he could still feel them resting on his skin.

“Kurapika,” Chrollo said, calling his assistant over. “Will you take Gon to his chambers?”

Kurapika obliged with a courteous bow, dismissing Chrollo from his brotherly duties. As Chrollo walked off to prepare for bed, Kurapika helped Gon up and dusted him off, effectively banishing the imaginations. 

“Your head is so full of fluff these days,” Kurapika commented as Gon sighed, chest tight with emotion.

“I don’t know why,” he confessed, brow tensing as they left through the closest open door. Chrollo’s room had six large sets of doors—half facing the third story balcony, and the other half facing the corridor which Kurapika and Gon left through. The instant they leave, the guards simultaneously closed the doors, shutting out all visitors from Chrollo’s personal chambers. 

Gon looked back at the closed doors and sighed as Kurapika took him by the arm and guided him ahead. Every time he saw his brother, his mind swarmed with memories of his smiles that faded with the years of arduous stress. When Chrollo’s advisor pulled him farther and farther from childhood, Gon cherished their adolescence together. Unlike most children, he could remember the days he was young and vulnerable, and would hold the hand Chrollo used to feed him snacks with when he couldn’t do so himself. 

Lately, Chrollo was all wistful grins instead of genuine smiles, like the thought of actually showing happiness was just a memory now.

**. . . **

The day Killua first noticed Gon, his brain said to him, _What is_ this _fool trying to do?_

Killua and Alluka weren’t exactly high enough on Emperor Chrollo’s radar to warrant daily meetings and conversations. But, as new guests to palace, they were invited to their first feast where Killua was more or less subjected to the doe-eyed stares of the boy sitting next to the Emperor. 

They weren’t exactly close to one another—there were plenty of people in between Killua and _that_ end of the table—but still, Killua could feel the man’s eyes on him as if they were sat right next to each other, and Killua could see his neighbor’s face turning to him in the corner of his eye…

“Who’s that guy down there?” Killua asked Alluka, and relayed to her the location based on where the Emperor was sitting.

“Oh, Gon? He’s Emperor Chrollo’s only brother,” she said quietly, attempting to be discrete as she looked over at Gon. Thankfully, though, the man didn’t seem to notice Alluka at all. He was too busy staring at Killua. “Seems like he’s taken a liking to you.”

“Are you sure he isn’t just staring at me because I have something on my face?” Killua whispered.

“Yeah, _your perfect eyes_ ,” Alluka teased, and Killua nudged her in the arm. “I’m _kidding_. Gods, no, you don’t have anything on your face. And I’m guessing you just didn’t notice him yesterday when we were meeting with Emperor Chrollo—he was staring at you then, too.”

“He wasn’t there,” Killua snorted, popping a bit of chicken into his mouth. 

“Whatever you say…” Alluka said, and was then lured into a conversation with the person across the table from them. 

The table was filled with all languages from the countries nested within the Empire. Killua knew several on his own, but hearing them all at once was overwhelming. He hardly _liked_ talking to people to begin with, even in his own native tongue. Catching Gon staring at him was _definitely_ a breather from listening to Alluka switch languages at the snap of a finger.

So Killua humored Gon. He caught Gon’s eye again, and held it as he raised his chopsticks to his mouth and ate another piece of chicken. The action brought a smile to the man’s face, suddenly flustered as he looked down at his own plate and decided to take a bite of his meal in spite of Killua’s eyes on him. Dinner went on like this, and it amused Killua to no end that he was able to survive the meal just by having a staring contest with the Emperor’s brother.

The meal was over once the Emperor and his entourage were dismissed through the back room. Killua took a moment to breathe, and turned to his sister, only to find Alluka grinning at him suggestively.

“Stop that,” Killua huffed.

“Stop what?”

“You’re being weird. I don’t like it,” he said, turning away as the servants began dismissing them from their places. He stood up with Alluka and started ahead. If they walked together, Killua _knew_ that he would only be teased for this-or-that and Killua _really_ didn’t want to hear it.

**. . . **

There were plenty of things they still didn’t understand about nymphs. Nymphs were elusive by nature, while at the same time, social creatures who formed passionate bonds with people like Gon did with everyone in his life. 

There were theories that nymphs were one of the few species to have a definitive soulmate, but even then it was hard to decide considering… certain aspects to a nymph’s psychology. 

For example: pureblooded nymphs tended to… _kill_ potential mates using whatever element they had on hand. There were plenty of records of this happening—men and women being found suffocated by vines, strangled and drowned in rivers, turned to stone. Sculptures were once believed to be the deceased mates to nymphs, forever captured by their last pose.

But Gon wasn’t pureblooded, which meant his affections showed in other ways. He went through phases with Knuckle—in and out of weeks where Gon would unknowingly court Knuckle with extravagant meals and presents that just seemed natural at the time. At least, until Gon came to a day after the phase ended, and realized how much of an idiot he was for putting Knuckle through that. 

“It’s okay—I really don’t mind. I think it’s really sweet,” Knuckle would reassure him with a dismissive wave of his hands, but Gon would wallow in misery until another fanciful thought entered his mind and dragged him out of his depression.

But Gon’s heart never felt like this before. 

It ached longingly at every sighting he had of Killua. The night he spent dinner staring into Killua’s eyes, he laid awake, dreaming with his eyes open and seeing Killua’s eyes closer than ever. Killua would lean over him on the bed, bare-chested with a hand laying over Gon’s heart. “Your mind is full of fluff again,” he’d whisper.

“I don’t know what to do—I’m so in love with you,” Gon would say, his breath escaping him as Killua laid flower after flower over Gon’s bare chest, where their hands would brush and Gon would hold the bouquet like it was his funeral guise. 

Killua shushed him as soon as love was mentioned. “You can never tell me—I could never understand the way you feel.”

Because Gon never truly slept, not with Killua sitting over him all night, he grew tired in the daytime. He fell asleep wherever he could, and when he wasn’t sleeping, he was daydreaming of dragon’s tongue and blue eyes drenched in that gooey red stuff his heart oozed. This went on for days. 

It only started to fade when recalling the memory of Killua staring at him over dinner started to become routine. It was still as vibrant as ever, but Gon was so used to seeing Killua sitting at the end of every table that he started to expect the fantasies.

“He’s lovesick,” Kurapika informed Chrollo one day over breakfast. “That’s my only explanation.”

Chrollo narrowed his eyes at Gon and said, “Do nymphs _get_ lovesick?” 

Gon raised an eyebrow at him and said, “You know as well as I do.”

“Then I suppose that’s nothing at all,” Chrollo huffed, perching his chin on his hand as he leant over the table to look at Kurapika. “I always knew nymphs were romantics, but never like… _this_.”

“We know more about purebloods than we do about… whatever Gon is,” Kurapika told him. “I imagine it’s different for halfbloods, considering Gon hasn’t strangled the poor boy yet.”

“Hey! I would never,” Gon whined. “Why do you keep insisting that I’ll ruin this!”

“Because you will,” Kurapika said. “You fall harder than anyone I ever know. It’ll take time for Killua to even _warm up to you_. You’re already planning the rest of your life with him.”

Gon was about to argue that, but his fantasies reeled his reservations back in. “Yeah… you’re right about that I guess,” he sighed, looking to his brother. 

“Just don’t let your… lovesickness cloud your judgement,” Chrollo said. “My guards still consider Killua to be a possible threat.”

“Killua’s gloomy because this isn’t his home yet,” Kurapika told him. “He’s passed the dangerous stage.”

“Still, I trust my guards over this more than I do you,” he said, setting his lips into a firm frown as he sat back and looked out over the balcony railing. The air smelled of sea salt and warm, summer air. Gon breathed it in as Chrollo did the same, and the action brought them both back to each other, sheepish grins on their lips. “Just be careful, Gon,” he said. 

“I have no intention of doing anything with this,” Gon insisted, shaking his head. “It’s just—It’s just a crush. I’m sure it will pass.”

It didn’t pass.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Gon bumped into Killua in the gardens, and the cycle started over again. The worst part: They talked. 

Gon wasn’t daydreaming when he ran into Killua—he rarely daydreamed when he was around Knuckle. Still, it didn’t stop him from squeaking in alarm when they turned the corner, and walked straight into the path of the one and only Killua, son of Silva, The Most Beautiful Man Alive. Killua’s luscious white hair was tied up in a bun, and it did weird, dreadful, deadly things to Gon’s heart that he never thought possible.

“Oh! Sorry, we didn’t mean to disturb your walk,” Knuckle said, covering for the fact that Gon was struggling to breathe suddenly. His chest felt impossibly tight, and he clutched at his shirt where his heart hammered against his ribcage. 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Killua said, and Gon thought he might just keel over and die. Even his _voice_ was pretty. It was low and smooth, and was music to Gon’s ears. “I… don’t think I’ve ever properly introduced myself—to either of you. Killua Zoldyck.”

He reached a hand to Knuckle first, and Gon’s attention was gone the second Killua finished talking. It wasn’t until Killua brought his hand over to Gon that he snapped back into reality. “Gon. Brother to Emperor Chrollo.”

“I know—we, uh, saw each other at the feast last week,” Killua said, retracting his hand into a vague gesture before saying, “I should leave you two to it then. Sorry for bothering your walk.”

“Not at all! Come talk to us any time,” Knuckle offered, and they watched Killua walk off through the heat of the garden that Kurapika loved so much. 

The instant Killua was gone, Gon dissolved into a mess of distraught nerves, all in a flourish of groaning and swooning and falling on the path at Knuckle’s feet as he exclaimed, “I’m an absolute _fool!_ A fool! I thought I was going to faint the second I saw him!”

“I have to say—this is _very_ amusing,” Knuckle confessed.

“I’m serious!” Gon whined, sitting up with his hands holding him up from behind. “I swore my heart was about to fling itself out of my mouth. His hair was in a _ponytail!_ A _ponytail!_ ”

Knuckle reached down for Gon, and hefted him back onto his feet. He dusted off Gon’s shoulders as he said, “You should have told him he looked nice.”

“I couldn’t. That’s a death sentence for sure,” Gon laughed, waving his hand in front of his face as if the _idea_ smelled bad. 

“Why? You did just confessing your undying love for me that one time,” Knuckle said. “It was flattering—I’m sure Killua would be flattered, and he’s probably more receptive to the idea than you give him credit for.”

“I don’t care—It’d be humiliating. And Killua couldn’t possibly think the same way as I do about this,” he insisted, crossing his arms with a firm shake of his head. Confessing his love for Killua would surely be the death of him—all of his fantasies of Killua said as much. And while his semi-hallucinations weren’t exactly the best counselors… he trusted them more than Knuckle.

Gon could never run after Killua like Knuckle wanted. The idea was forbidden due to his reveries of this fantastical, unreal version of Killua. 

He delved into another phase of lovesickness, as Kurapika took to calling it, and the effect was so profound that he legitimately became ill. The violent stomach bug alarmed his brother and Kurapika. 

It occurred after he realized that he didn’t have an appetite anymore. He felt bloated at every meal and couldn’t eat more than a bite. Afterwards, he would be in and out of hiccups and burps on the verge of vomiting, and when he did at last succumb to vomiting, Kurapika ran to Chrollo in alarm.

“I don’t know what we can do—Gon’s physician isn’t in the country this time of year,” Chrollo confessed, voice tense as he spun his earing to and fro as he paced the length of his study. 

Kurapika was busy wracking through his memory for anyone else that could help Gon. Physicians were a common occurrence, but physicians who specialized in treating nymphs were nearly as rare as the nymphs themselves. 

Gon had the same doctor since he was young and hadn’t seen anyone else since, but the fact that the man’s family lived elsewhere made scheduling difficult. He never had extreme circumstances to worry about until now, so they were always able to plan ahead.

“Hazama can search for another,” Kurapika offered, gesturing to where Chrollo’s advisor was walking in through the balcony door.

“What am I doing?” Hazama asked, alarmed.

Chrollo relayed the issue, and insisted that they needed to find another physician who treated nymphs. “Are you certain this is because of Gon’s heritage?”

“I don’t—” Chrollo started, but Kurapika jumped in, insisting, “It has to be—he’s been.. _lovesick_ for _weeks_ now.”

“It _could_ just be a case of the stomach flu,” Chrollo said.

“It could _also_ be something more severe than that,” Kurapika insisted, clasping his hands behind his back. “Gon has been acting strange ever since the Silva boys came here. You can’t deny that his imagination has been running _wild_ since. He’s been in and out of daydreams ever since.”

“He was doing fine the other day when I saw him,” Hazama insisted.

“I don’t know what it is,” Kurapika said, “but if he doesn’t see Silva’s son—Killua—for several days, he gets better, but then he spirals right back into it after seeing him again. It should be getting better, but his guard came to me this morning saying he was puking and hallucinating the entire night and his guard didn’t know what to do. Chrollo’s nurse tried giving Gon medication, but he won’t take anything.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Of Killua. You know how he is sometimes—remembering people and such—but this is… _way_ more severe than we’ve ever seen,” Kurapika explained with a shake of his head. The tension above his brow said enough—it wasn’t often Chrollo’s assistant showed such a level of distress. 

“I’ll see what I can do about finding Gon a proper replacement doctor,” Hazama said. “In the meantime—try what you can to settle his stomach.”

Kurapika nodded. “I’ve been going through my research since I heard the news.”

“Good. And, Emperor, try not to worry over Gon too much. In the case that it’s contagious, it’d be best if you stayed away from him until this is over,” he said to Chrollo, who nearly argued back before realizing that Hazama was right in his concern. The last thing they needed was Chrollo coming down with the _stomach flu_.

While Hazama went in search of a doctor, Kurapika hurriedly pulled his stack of books off of Chrollo’s desk and dismissed himself in preparation for coming up with another concoction with Chrollo’s nurse. They met at the medicinal greenhouse where they assessed Gon’s symptoms and combatted them with the plants they had on hand. 

The Emperor’s medicinal greenhouse stored a wide variety of exotic plants known to cure a wide range of aliments. It was, perhaps, the most extensive collection the world had ever known, and the greenhouse itself spanned across the rooftop of the entire palace where it wasn’t obstructed by the gardens that spotted the hallways here and there. From afar, the palace was composed of sturdy, reflective glass that made it glow day and night from the horizon.

The nurse, Machi, came jogging to Kurapika from across the greenhouse. “I’ve got it—this should help with the hallucinations.”

Kurapika plucked the stem from Machi’s hand and squinted at the bizarre violet flower. It was accented with soft cream colors and striped with white petals, but mainly, its focal color was a vibrant, rich purple. “Dragon’s tongue?” Kurapika said, and Machi nodded. “What does it do? I’ve never heard of it being used for medicinal purposes.”

“I’ve seen it grown in households with children—it’s safe to eat and calms a person’s mind. It’s known to temporarily erase overactive imaginations. My mum used to give it to me if we had company over and I was too energetic for the occasion,” she explained with a shrug as Kurapika narrowed hiseyes at the flower.

“Gon would never take this,” he sighed. “But… he doesn’t have to know it’s in there. Tea?”

“Yes, that would be best,” Machi agreed, and together, they conspired to end Gon’s hallucinations and hopefully push back the stomach flu with a touch of ginger. 

Kurapika was charged with delivering the tea, and he stopped himself outside of Gon’s door, tea tray in hand, and made eye contact with the guards standing out there with him. They silently gave him the best of their luck before opening the door. Kurapika steeled himself with a deep breath, and passed the threshold, into the darkness where Gon was being fondly taken care of by Knuckle.

Knuckle looked up from where he was about to dump out a bucket of vomit into the toilet—across the entire room and through a set of doors. He peered out, though, at the sound of the door opening, and sighed in relief when he realized it was Kurapika. “Oh thank _gods_. I was wondering where you were.”

“Sorry—Machi and I were just brainstorming on what to do. Hazama’s off looking for a replacement doctor for Gon.”

“Re—placement?” Gon hiccuped miserably from the bed. He was half-slouched off of it, clutching to the end table as a shudder went through him. His sheets were stained with sweat, and his face was such a pallid white that he had Kurapika grimacing before he even got close enough to see the vomit sloshing in his bucket. 

“Yeah, sorry—it’s the best we can manage with your physician off in Greed,” he confessed, hastily nudging the tray of tea onto the tabletop nearest Gon. “Machi and I made you some ginger tea to help settle your stomach.”

“N-No—I can’t,” he said, waving his hand. “I can’t eat anything—”

“It’s just tea, Gon. Please?” he said. He did his best to ignore the smell of vomit, and shook a rag free from his pocket to wipe Gon’s mouth. 

Gon took the rag, sitting up a little as he threw his hands down and glared at Kurapika. It was a feeble attempt at hostility, so he eventually caved and accepted the cup. 

He managed down a few sips and a gulp before shaking his head, clasping a hand over his mouth. “I can’t do any more. Please, Kurapika, don’t make me…”

“It doesn’t even taste that bad,” he said. “You _love_ ginger tea.”

“It’s not the taste I- I- I sw _ear—_ ” His words turned all garbled, eyes tearing up as he reached frantically for the bucket. Knuckle was coming over with a fresh one, so Kurapika grabbed it and thrust it into Gon’s hands just as he started dry heaving and retching, coughing like he had the worst damn cold in the world. Kurapika could tell something was clogging his esophagus, so he stood up and pushed him forward, patting him _hard_ on the back until it came loose. 

Something _not liquid_ came dropping out of Gon’s mouth. His cheeks were stuffed with it until he spat them all out, groaning at the taste. He leaned over and coughed more, stomach convulsing and turning up more and more of the soggy, damp _flower petals_. 

“Since when were you eating _flowers?_ ” Knuckle asked as Gon calmed down at last, resting a hand over his chest. Tears were running down his face as he gasped for air.

“I—never _ate_ flowers,” he spat at Knuckle. “ _Gods_. I do feel a bit better now, though.”

Kurapika squinted at the bucket, taking it from Gon as he used Kurapika’s rag to clean his mouth. Kurapika took the rag after him. With it, he picked up one of the petals and investigate it’s… purple… color… 

_Shit_.

“These are dragon’s tongue petals,” he said, looking wide-eyed at Knuckle, who shrugged.

“I don’t… know what that means. Don’t you use that to pacify children?” he asked.

“Hazama used to give me dragon’s tongue when I was little,” Gon said in a disgusted voice, sticking his tongue out in distaste. “They look pretty, though.”

“That’s because you were ridiculous as a child,” Knuckle accused, arms crossed. Gon shrugged, running a hand through his sweaty hair with a sigh. He couldn’t deny Knuckle’s truths.

“This has _got_ to be one of your weird nymph things,” Kurapika accused, and Gon turned away with a pout on his lips. His gaze just happened to fall on Killua, though, who sat beside him on the bed with his index finger pressed to his soft, beautiful lips. 

Ever since Gon was a child, he could tell the difference between reality and fantasy, but even still it didn’t stop him from loving that the ceiling was filled with stars when really, it was just stone. He liked the idea of living in a world were such things were possible, and so he entertained his fantasies without fully believing in them. When Kurapika and Knuckle left him to his illusions, he welcomed the company Killua gave him before Chrollo’s nurse came back with a crew of servants preparing to clean and wash his bed sheets. 

While Gon’s heart muddled all over again at the thought of Killua, Kurapika and Knuckle hurried to consult the many books they had on nymphs. Chrollo started collecting them ever since Gon was born and started showing symptoms of being half-nymph. They had every possible resource at the tips of their fingers, and so they started hunting through the recorded illnesses nymphs contracted that had a little something to do with excess romanticism.

That was where Hazama found them in the morning, burrowed in books. Knuckle had fallen asleep on one of the window sill cushions, and leapt awake at the sound of Hazama announcing, “I’ve found someone who could help!”

Kurapika stood up from the table as Knuckle fell on the floor with a shout. He scrambled up, and in his sleepy daze, he saluted the man who’s stepped out from behind Hazama, hands clasped in front of him. 

“Kurapika, Knuckle, this is Leorio. He was just visiting in the area, but we’ve commissioned him to help Gon. I’m sure Leorio will do everything he can to heal him.”

Leorio smiled amiably, but Kurapika could already tell just _where_ this man came from. “Don’t you think it’s a _coincidence_ that he’s Padokean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Hazama.

Hazama startled when Leorio barked, “Oi, you’re one to talk, huh? Out of the four of us, I imagine I’m the only one who’s study nymph biology at Greed Island. I spent more of my life there than in Padokean.”

Kurapika gestured to Hazama, who was busy clearing out his ears. “You could have opened with the man’s repertoire, you know.”

“I… _realize_ Padokean is a bit of a strange background for someone who has a history of treating nymphs, but Leorio’s the best we’ve got.”

Despite Kurapika’s qualms about letting _another_ Padokean near his already-suffering subject, he relented. He gestured for Leorio to enter, and soon, they were all standing over the books Kurapika and Knuckle had assembled. 

Leorio had the same dark hair as Alluka and the same sculpted features she and Killua had. Kurapika didn’t know many Padokeans to begin with, but he found himself wondering if they _all_ looked this beautiful. Seeing people like Leorio, Alluka, and Killua around the palace was certainly putting the staff into a tizzy trying to contain the breaths they lost at the sight of them. 

“Has there been any development with the Prince’s state?” Leorio asked then, startling Kurapika back into motion.

“More or less,” he confessed, grimacing as he pulled a book over.

Knuckle stepped forward and explained, “He’s been… _coughing up flowers_. Machi—our nurse—has been keeping an eye on him all night, and it’s started to calm down.”

Kurapika was about to show Leorio an article on dragon’s tongue when he noticed how Leorio’s pale complexion turned even paler. “Flowers?” he repeated, clasping a hand to his neck. He reached it up over his face and dragged it down with a sigh. “How long?”

“How long has he been throwing up?”

“How long has he been _in love_ ,” he reiterated. 

“Two weeks,” both Kurapika and Knuckle said, and looked to Hazama, whose eyes were wide as he watched Leorio think through the dilemma. 

“And he’s halfblood?” Leorio asked, and with the confirmation of all three of them in the room, his decision was final. “Purebloods instinctively kill the people they love, but with halfbloods, it’s a bit more complicated than that. There’s not much _on_ halfbloods, but I’ve seen a few cases in Padokean halfbloods before. The instincts more or less _backfire_.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Kurapika said, eyes wide. “You mean—he’s killing himself?” 

“Unintentionally,” Leorio said, as if that would reassure them at all. “And with cases I’ve seen—we call it hanahaki, as it’s become a common trait among halfbloods I know—it _can_ be fatal if left untreated. The only cure is for a confession—the person Gon loves has to love him back.”

“Oh,” Knuckle hummed, sharing a look with Kurapika. “I… don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, if I’m completely honest.”

“I doubt Killua would confess his love out of pity,” Kurapika huffed. 

“He’s also still a threat—he could use this weakness as a way to negotiate with Emperor Chrollo,” Hazama said. “As in, he won’t help us unless the Emperor agrees to certain terms.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Kurapika huffed.

“It’s… not that simple,” Leorio interrupted. He paced back towards the center of the room, tapping a finger to his chin. “Regardless of whether or not this… _Killua_ agrees to love Gon, this entire time Gon’s mind is convincing him that Killua could never love him at all. Which means he will continue to suffer unless he can come to terms with loving Killua as a reality and not a fantasy.”

“So… convincing Gon to confess his undying love for Killua?” Knuckle reiterated, and Leorio nodded his head. “Oh. I mean, he’s done it plenty of times to me _and_ other people. But something is so different about Killua. He’s never contracted hanahaki before with me.”

“There’s no rhyme or reason to it, as far as I can tell,” Leorio confessed. “Though, of the two cases I was involved with, both ended up married and happy when all was said and done.”

“Two cases?” Kurapika said, jaw dropping. “This is all based on _two cases—!_ ”

“Kurapika,” Hazama sighed.

“No! This is bullshit, we can’t—How do we know any of what you said is surefire?” she demanded. “We are entrusting the life of the Emperor’s _brother_ with someone who’s only seen this _twice_.”

“To be fair, both of them are alive now. Right Leorio?” Knuckle said, and Leorio nodded. “See? I’d say that’s a success. Two-for-two.”

“Knuckle, be realistic. This is your best friend we’re talking about,” Kurapika sighed, scuffing his foot on the wood flooring. “And if Gon dies under _my_ supervision, guess who’s getting fired and likely hung to death.” He jabbed a thumb at his own chest before flinging his hands out exasperatedly. “A lot at stake, in case you couldn’t tell.”

They lapsed into silence. None of them could deny the strict way Emperor Chrollo controlled his people. Someone with that much power _had to_. It was commendable, (sometimes) just, and effective, though it still didn’t stop his closest advisors, friends, and servants from worrying about the state of their necks. Hazama rubbed at his own neck in worry, and ended the silence with a loud sigh and clapped his hands together, startling them all.

“Right! So Leorio, I suppose I should show you to Gon so you can decide for yourself what our next action is,” he said, and though they all knew what needed to be done, Chrollo wouldn’t accept anything less than a formal confirmation. 

Later that day, when Gon met Leorio, Leorio laid the flat metal surface of his stethoscope to Gon’s chest and his upper and lower back. Gon tugged his shirt back down after Leorio leant back with a relieved sigh. “Good news?” Gon asked.

“Well, better than what I was expecting. As long as the roots stay in your stomach, you should be fine. But we can expect that this will happen again in time—which means that your stomach will cleanse itself by vomiting the flowers.”

“And… worse case scenario then?” Hazama asked from the side, leaning over to inspect Gon closely. Gon leant away, and raised an eyebrow at Leorio.

“Worse case scenario would mean that the illness takes root in your other systems. This seems to be a usual case, and I’ve only ever caught it as far as affecting the respiratory system. If the roots extend to your lungs… you will likely suffocate to death,” Leorio warned, a pitiful look on his face as he watched Gon worry over the thought. 

With Gon’s vivid imagination, he could already start to feel the tendrils sinking in and staking their claim on his life. 

“And… what’s the cure?” he asked quietly. “Since you haven’t said it, it can’t be fun. Surgery?” 

Leorio hesitated, and Gon was already mentally preparing himself for it. He never had to go through surgery before, but… if he had to do it, he would. 

“Surgery isn’t recommended. And I am no surgeon,” Leorio confessed with a wave of his hands. He settled back in his chair, sharing a look with Hazama. Gon watched his brother’s advisor nod his head in encouragement. “Ultimately… the cause of all of this is your love for Killua. The only way to resolve this would be to… speak with him about this. See if you all could come together on good terms and hopefully… establish a romantic bond with him.”

The instant Killua’s name was dragged into the equation, Gon could already feel himself drifting away, curling in on himself as his head grew lighter and lighter. Hazama said his name, but he just waved a hand at Hazama, and tried to shake off Leorio when he insisted Gon lay back. He was so woozy that even that much was enough to cause him to faint.


	3. Chapter 3

“I seriously _cannot_ face Killua. That’s just… _impossible!_ _Gods_ , every time I see him I lose control,” Gon cried out from the bathroom as he showered later that next day. He hadn’t thrown up in several hours and was feeling better—if not hungry, now that his stomach was no longer filled with all the fluff Kurapika always claimed was stuck in his head.

“You’ve honestly confessed your love for me on seven different occasions. _Seven!_ ” Knuckle said, leaning back against the wall beside Gon’s bathroom door. A tapestry was hung there, cushioning his head as he tipped it back against the stone bricks.

“That- That is totally different! Don’t bring that into this!” Gon complained as he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower for a towel. He scrubbed it over his face and hair before reaching over the sink to clear the fog out of the bathroom mirror. He rubbed the water out of his pointed ears and ducked down to dry off the rest of his body as Knuckle started talking again.

“Okay, fine, but I’m just saying that I always thought you were being super genuine, and if what you’re saying is that you never _were_ genuine—”

“I totally was!”

“—then I don’t see why confessing to Killua is any different if they were all genuine love confessions,” he finished, and Gon stood up with a groan and grabbed the nearest robe folded up on the wooden stool nearby. He pulled it on and tied the sash. 

“You’re a natural improvisor though,” his friend insisted as Gon eventually left the bathroom. Knuckle stepped away from the wall and followed Gon as he crossed the room. 

His bed was changed again—fresh sheets and all, and a tea tray was left at the end of his bed. He poured himself a cup and took a sip as he turned and realized that Knuckle was fiddling with his fingers like he always did when he was nervous.

“What? I’m not gonna faint on you like I did with Leorio,” Gon said with a scoff. “Stop looking so worried about me.”

“It’s not… _that_ , really,” Knuckle started, worrying his lip between his teeth.

He wondered how far Kurapika had gotten, and how much longer he needed to stall their friend. He couldn’t think of anything else except for the conversation he stood in on with Emperor Chrollo. 

Anything that could cure Chrollo’s brother was top priority, even if that _something_ happened to be Killua Zoldyck, son of Silva, potential _threat to the throne_ …

Kurapika was off on strict orders from Chrollo. He intercepted Killua after following the directions of the guards along the way, and nabbed him in the garden as he was in the middle of a conversation with Alluka. 

“Urgent business from the Emperor,” Kurapika said, bowing respectfully to the two of them before perking up at the sight of Alluka stepping forward. “For Killua.”

“Me? Why?” Killua questioned, sharp blue eyes narrowing. 

“I’m… afraid I don’t know the details,” Kurapika lied, and offered an apologetic smile. “But I have orders to lead you there. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Killua scoffed and passed his sister with a nudge of his elbow to Alluka’s side. “ _Urgent business_ and he says ‘If I don’t mind.’”

“Don’t be rude,” Alluka sighed. 

“And Alluka,” Kurapika started. “Seeing as this concerns your brother, the Emperor wants to meet with you and discuss it. You could be of some help in this situation.”

“The… Emperor wants to see me?” Alluka repeated, eyes wide as Killua crossed his arms from where he now behind Kurapika—where Kurapika couldn’t see his smug smile. Alluka rolled her eyes at Killua and sighed, “All right. Lead the way, Kurapika.”

And so, as Gon took a sip of his tea, Knuckle strayed closer to the door. 

“So what is it then? My brother’s _got_ to be worried. I feel fine now, though,” Gon was saying, rubbing a hand over his stomach through the silky fabric of his robe. “Knuckle?”

“Hm?”

“You’re… gettin’ a little lost over there. Are _you_ okay?” Gon questioned, prowling closer after setting his tea aside. Knuckle gave a little squeak and shook his head before realizing what he was doing, and nodded fast. “What’s got you so frazzled?”

“I- Um- It was your brother’s idea! I had nothing to do with it!” Knuckle cried, clasping his hands over his mouth as Gon came closer, eyes narrowing. “You’re gonna maim me!”

“No I’m not!” Gon exclaimed, throwing his arms down. Knuckle took off sprinting towards the door.

“Killua’s on his way! I’ll see you later!” Knuckle shrieked, and Gon’s heart plummeted into his empty stomach as he watched his best friend take off sprinting through the open doors of Gon’s room.

Gon gathered his bearings and ran after Knuckle, screaming, “You _what!?_ You enabled this! I just know it!” 

“I didn’t!” Knuckle cried down the hall, and screamed as he turned the corner, skidding to a halt. Gon skidded into the hallway on bare feet, hopping a little with the effort, and nearly fainted right then and there as two people turned the corner, and he heard Kurapika saying, “Calm down, Knuckle! Gods!”

“Hello, Knuckle—Or… not?” Killua said, waving at Knuckle as the man took off sprinting away from the room. 

Gon had just enough time to run into the room and escape detection. He flung his arms up at the guards, saying, “Close the doors! Close them!”

They followed his orders, and stood stationed outside of the bedroom until Kurapika and Killua approached. Kurapika eyed them all—all four of them, two for each set of doors—and put his hands on his hips. 

“I come on Emperor Chrollo’s orders,” he declared, chin up.

Distantly, he swore he could hear Gon shriek from the other side of his room, “ _Traitor!_ ” because a moment later, the guards shared a look with one another and reached to open the doors again. 

“What’s this about?” Killua asked, but he couldn’t hide his amused smile, _especially_ after seeing the Prince’s friend book it down the hallway faster than a race horse.

Kurapika only guided him into the room a few steps before saying, “I’ll leave you two be then. Guards! Close and lock the doors.”

Kurapika slipped out as he said the words, and waved smugly at Killua, who lunged in a panic for the doors. 

Killua’s hands hit the wood as it closed. He dropped to the handles and yanked on them, but the guards were already securing them in place.

Killua turned back around, hands going to his hip. They didn't disarmed him—and he knew Alteans were rich for an honest fight. They wouldn’t kill a man if he wasn’t armed. 

He looked around the room and realized that he wasn’t at all _trapped_ , necessarily. He was on the second floor of the palace in a room with a balcony, a view of the ocean, and… a bed, and floor pillows, and couches and chairs meant for luxurious comfort… 

_Am I… in a bedroom?_ he wondered, pushing himself away from the doors with every intention of escaping from the balcony. 

At the time, he simply thought he was stuck alone in the room. He had to admit—he loved Nakulian interior decorating. He always had a soft spot for intricate, handprinted tapestries. They were everywhere in the palace to muffle the echoes, and it made the entire room feel warm and homely. He passed the heavy red curtains at the balcony doors, and reached the railing where he leant over and judged the distance…

“I wouldn’t recommend the jump.” 

Killua leapt away, startled by the sound. It was the Emperor’s brother, and Killua really shouldn’t have been as shocked as he was. A room like that _had_ to have belonged to royalty. 

“Sorry for startling you,” Gon said, the words weighing on his shoulders so he leant against the railing with a sigh. “The jump. I tried it once—broke my arm.”

“No kidding,” Killua breathed, his heart still hammering in his chest as he looked back at the closed, _locked_ doors. “Do you… know what this is about?” he asked.

“Just a little more than you do, I imagine,” Gon said, stepping closer.

Killua looked back at the motion, and the way Gon’s brilliant eyes were lighter than he initially thought. He had the pointed ears of Nakulian royalty—it was an elvish trait that was passed down to all generations for the past several _centuries_. It was difficult to notice during a brief chat in the garden, or from across the dining table at that first feast he saw Gon. 

“How do you like it here?” Gon asked as the ocean breeze came in. Killua’s eyes were suddenly stuck where Gon’s bath robe exposed his soft brown skin. 

“It’s… fine,” Killua said, swallowing hard as Gon came closer and made it difficult to focus on his chest when his eyes were so up close and _personal_. 

There was something hypnotizing about Gon’s eyes that made it impossible for either of them to turn away. Later, Gon couldn’t be entirely sure of what had happened, aside from the fact that it was riddled with his incredible emotions like during those weeks he courted Knuckle blindly. But for Killua… Killua was just along for the ride. 

“You know…” Gon started, eyes now half lidded as he smiled softly at Killua. Killua was certain his face had never been closer to another person’s in his entire life. “The first time I saw you… I was _so certain_ you were the most remarkable person I had ever met. I had never met you before, I know nothing about you, but…”

“What’s this a—” Killua started, and was swiftly silenced by Gon’s lips falling on his.

Killua let out a gasp that Gon stole and clung to. He leant into Killua for full support, but Killua lost all of his gracefulness, his agility, his _common sense_. 

He fell against the railing with a shout, shoving Gon away. The extra space gave Killua a second to grab his knife from its holster. The instant he saw Gon coming for him again, he slashed the blade in the first place he could reach—Gon’s thigh _._

_“Fuck!_ ” Gon shrieked, slapping his hands over the deep cut as Killua fell completely on the ground. He scrambled back, and pushed himself to his feet. He scrambled for the railing and swung over it without a second thought. “Killua! Oh gods!” Gon screamed.

Gon tried to chase after Killua, but he didn’t even make it to the railing. His leg gave out and he dropped to his knees with another curse. He clasped a bloody hand to one of the railing dowels. 

“ _Guards!_ Guards!” he yelled, panting as the agony of the cut started to seep like hot, burning tar across his thigh. 

As the guards ran to Gon’s aid, Killua hit the ground with a roll and popped back up without an issue. Unlike childhood Gon, Killua had experience in this sort of ordeal. And, generally, the Padokea were a resilient race that made it possible for Killua to drop from a third story window and come out just fine on the ground. It took some experience, but Killua perfected his landings, and his climbing, which was what brought him to the forest where instincts told him to do so. It wasn’t until he settled in one of the high branches that he was finally able to relax for a moment and realize what an idiot he was.

His breath stung his chest like nothing else. The run did wonders to embellish his idiocy. It felt like he was being punished for his stupidity. He put a hand to his forehead as he propped the knife up into view and swore under his breath. 

Of everyone he could have practically-stabbed, it _had to be the Emperor’s brother_. 

He didn’t even think when he did it. Even if he claimed it was self-defense, he couldn’t imagine anyone would buy it. What imbecile would call a kiss from Gon a _bad thing?_ In hindsight, Killua couldn’t even claim that. He had just been so startled that his adrenaline kicked him in his own ass and sliced open Gon’s leg.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned, shoving the heels of his palms against his burning eye sockets. 

He dragged a hand over his mouth as the thought of Gon came back. _I can’t believe he called me ‘remarkable,’_ he thought, flushing bright red up in the tree while the Emperor’s guards fanned out across the palace grounds in search of him.

**. . . **

“Holy shit that _hurts_! Fuck— _This_ is why I was never raised for war. Someone could trip me on the battlefield and I’d run home crying,” Gon prattled on to distract himself from the fact that Leorio was stitching a needle through his skin. One thing was certain: the pain made it impossible for Gon to let his imagination “run wild,” so there was no escaping this little _endeavor_.

“I acted too rashly. This wouldn’t have happened if—I shouldn’t have— _Gods_ , this is all my fault,” his brother said, his hands in his hair. 

Gon reached a hand out to Chrollo, pulling his hand from his hair so Gon could clasp it tight. Gon offered an encouraging smile that came out as a grimace as Leorio tugged on the thread. 

Chrollo knelt down beside Gon. “Killua will pay for this—I swear it.”

“Oh gods, you’re so dramatic,” Gon sighed, looking away. He had half a mind to drop Chrollo’s hand right then and there. “This is my fault, if anything. One second I was panicking, and the next I just… let something come over me. I was too forward with him. I think I scared him.”

“ _Scared him_?” Chrollo blurted out, furious. “How can you blame yourself for this? Gon—” 

Gon rolled his eyes, only to squeak when another nip of pain pinched his irritated wound. Chrollo’s grip tightened, now clasping Gon’s hand with both of his own. 

“I swear to you that this was _not_ Killua’s fault. He’s probably too terrified to show himself in fear of _you_ beheading him or some… medieval shit like that.”

“I would not _behead him_ ,” Chrollo hissed, sitting back in his chair with a huff. “Besides, I’m more for _hanging_ than anything.”

“ _Chrollo!_ ” Gon squeaked, blushing at the thought. He had always been an empathetic, emotional guy, and anything that had to do with his brother’s dark side had him curling in on himself.

“I’m sorry, Gon, but it’s true. And I don’t want you defending this man simply because you don’t want to see him suffer the consequences of his actions. I will keep that as far from you as possible,” he said.

“You can’t! He didn’t mean it!” Gon cried, and when Chrollo stood to walk away, he held onto Chrollo hand tighter, forcing him to stay by his side. “When Killua comes back, let me talk to him.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Emperor,” Leorio started, ducking his head as he waited for permission to speak.

Chrollo pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Continue.” 

“I cannot be entirely sure that Gon’s hanahaki would be cured if Killua was no longer in the picture. We would have to risk surgery, and even then I have no sure answer for the outcome of that. I wouldn’t want to risk it, sir.” With that, Leorio clipped the end of the knot, and softly cleaned around the wound before wrapping it and packing up his things. 

As he stood up, Chrollo gave him a stern look and said, “I don’t know you very well, Leorio… but I can’t help but trust your judgement here. We would be at a loss without you.”

Leorio turned red at the compliment, and bowed his head to hide it. “I’m glad I could be of service to you. I’ll continue checking up on Gon and monitor for another unsettling… episode.”

Leorio left the two of them, and the moment he was gone, Chrollo had the guards close the doors and leave them, prompting Gon to groan in annoyance and turn over on his side so that he could weave the blankets between his legs and cushion his wounded one. 

“Gon, don’t turn your back on me,” Chrollo said.

“All you’ll see is my back if you decide to punish Killua for this. I’m _fine_. I’m not _dead_. I’m sure if he wanted me dead, I’d be dead already,” Gon said, voice partially muffled by his pillow. 

A moment of silence passed in which Chrollo brought his hands in front of him and twisted the rings on his index finger. He paced to the other side of the bed where he could see Gon’s face.

He tipped his head to the side to study his brother’s complexion, and how elegant his features were. Even when Gon was just an infant, Chrollo found him beautiful. Normally, he despised children and hated the fact that his advisor was already setting the date for an arranged marriage if he didn’t decide herself.

Their age difference was… impressive, to say the least, and as Chrollo grew closer to his fourth decade of life, he felt more and more like Gon was his son rather than a younger brother. Chrollo was certain he would never find a child more beautiful than Gon, and so, at fifteen years old, he raised Gon like one of his own. When he was younger, he wanted to be mature enough to support a child—no one was ever _truly_ ready for it, but for Gon, he wanted to be.

And being a father figure to Gon meant that he decided he had to make hard choices for him. 

This one wasn’t Chrollo’s decision. 

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll let him pass.”

Gon sat up a little, startled by his brother’s swift yield. He expected to fight Chrollo over this until the moment Killua was found. “Really?” he all but rasped. 

Chrollo looked up to the ceiling as if to say, _Gods help me_. But, the hug Gon gave him was definitely a blessing, and it did wonders in convincing him that he was doing the right thing. 

“Yes, but I still need to have a stern word with Kurapika. You’ll be getting new guards, and I want one with you at all times—either that, or to have Kurapika supervise you whenever Killua is around. This is as lenient as I’m going to get—”

“ _Thank you_. That’s fine. I’m okay with that,” he promised, rubbing his cheek against Chrollo shoulder as Chrollo huffed at his compliance. “And I stick to what I said—I want to speak with Killua the _moment_ they find him. I have to apologize for the way I acted.”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do,” he promised, and as he left Gon’s quarters, Chrollo was already planning on what _he_ would say to Killua before he’d let the guards fetch Gon. But first—he had a bone to pick with Kurapika. 


	4. Chapter 4

Killua thought the coast was clear, but he didn’t really have a plan on how to turn himself in. For an hour there, he suspected that he’d have to disappear from the Empire completely, find a small town to disguise himself in, maybe become a _farmer_ or something crude like that where the Emperor wouldn’t think to look.

But he couldn’t leave Alluka in there, not with the way Killua left things with the Emperor’s brother.

The fact that the guards found him straight away made the “turning in” part easier than he thought it’d be. 

The second his feet touched the ground, someone was shouting in the distance, and the footsteps came faster than Killua thought possible. He tensed up in fear, and, frozen in place, he didn’t even fight when the guard grabbed him by the arm and disarmed him in one swift movement. The sheath for his knife was ripped from his waist. The guard shoved him forceful ahead, securing his hands behind his back for the walk back to the palace. All the while, the guard’s partner was sent ahead to shut down the search for Killua. 

The second they were back on the premises, Killua was certain there was a dungeon or something they were preparing a cell for him in, but instead of all that, they were confronted by a frantic man with a hefty five o’ clock shadow running down the corridor. 

Killua was barely through the door when one of the guards kicked the back of his knees out. He dropped to the ground with a gasp, and before he could attempt to wrench himself free, the man came yelling, “Hey! Enough of that—Emperor Chrollo wants to speak to him.”

“Aw, c’mon Hazama,” the guard said, shoving Killua’s head down with a forceful push. Killua grunted, teeth grinding together as the guy said, “You really expect me to believe he’s gonna let this guy off easy? After what he did to the Prince?”

The man—Hazama—stomped over and slapped the guard on the back of the head, and whipped his hand against the shoulder of his comrade, who had been chuckling behind his hand. “I’ll take him from here. See to it that the guards return back to their normal stands. Understood?”

The guards grumbled their agreements and left, nursing the bruises Hazama gave them. The moment the doors creaked shut, Killua was brought back to his feet and dusted off. 

“Terribly sorry about that,” the man said with a gruff, almost plastic smile. 

“Hazama, huh? Imperial advisor to the Emperor?” Killua asked, and after having the restraints taken off, was given Hazama’s hand to shake.

“That would be me. We met briefly the day you got here,” he said, clasping his hands together as he started off down the hall. 

After a moment, Killua followed suit, and made sure to stick close on every occasion they passed Chrollo’s guards. Every last one of them gave Killua nasty looks.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re just worried about the safety of the Emperor and his family. We all are. These are dangerous times.”

“I know. I doubt they’ll smile at me again—not that… they ever _did._ It’s just… they’re stoic at all times,” he stammered, pinching his fingers against his hair as Hazama laughed. “I was… wondering if it’s at all possible that I might… ask for Prince Gon’s forgiveness? And offer my apologies, that is.”

“You’ll have to take that up with the Emperor,” Hazama said as they turned down a familiar path. It was the same one Killua took with Alluka during their first night, when Kurapika showed them around the palace. They were getting closer and closer to the throne room where Killua’s fate would be decided. 

Killua couldn’t believe how badly he fucked up. As the eldest brother now, he was supposed to uphold _some_ semblence of dignity while they were here. 

_Alluka must be so disappointed in me_ , Killua thought.

Meanwhile, it was difficult for Chrollo to keep his temper in check. He knew he’d regret it if he decided to act on his first impulse—Gon would never look at him again, and if he did… there was the ultimate threat that it would be on his deathbed. 

It didn’t help that this entire shitshow started and ended in the presence of Killua’s youngest sister, who showed all of the signs of someone who hadn’t expected any of this to happen. It made condemning Killua an even more difficult task. 

“I have absolutely no reason to suspect that Killua did any of this with malicious intent, your Majesty,” Alluka insisted. “If you could give me a moment to speak with him about this—“

“I cannot guarantee anything until I speak with him first,” Chrollo said in passing, stepping beyond Alluka’s level near the throne. 

The room was significantly emptier than the day Alluka first set foot in it, but it just served to echo her feelings and emotions, which resonated in the hollow shell of her shock. She had been in a daze since the sun had gone down, and now that it was nearly dawn, she had exhausted herself with worry.

Chrollo’s servants straightened out his robes when he turned to face the center of the room. He sat after they backed away, and a solemn expression came to his face. He rested in the silence before the doors opened, and footsteps echoed into the hall.

The servant beside Chrollo took a step forward to relay his titles, but Chrollo simply raised a hand to skip the formality. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time. 

“Hazama,” he called, and the man beside Killua straightened. 

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Fetch Gon. See that he doesn’t have to walk.”

The clarification had Killua putting a hand to his face, hoping that then he wouldn’t have to witness the look of disappointment on his sister’s face. In the end, he was forced to stand his ground, and confront the loathsome glare on the Emperor’s face.

Killua’s heart echoed against his eardrums. It throbbed so intensely against his ribcage that he thought he might faint. 

The Emperor looked just as harrowing as he was portrayed in every tale that spread across the continent. Killua couldn’t help that his eyes settled on the sheaths at the Emperor’s waist—formiddable, even when they weren’t wielded in Emperor Chrollo’s hands. Killua could see his sister’s boots not far, but couldn’t look up beyond them. 

“You could have _killed_ my brother,” the Emperor spat at him. Killua had been shouted at enough times to not flinch. “Not only that, but you ran like a coward. I hear my guards found you descending from a _tree_.”

Killua ducked his head. “I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking _at all_ , really.”

“Eldest brother or not, I do not hold your life in the highest regard. If you hurt my brother—”

“The world wouldn’t miss me,” he said, raising his chin up to meet the Emperor’s gaze. “I’m no longer an heir, so I have no significant title. I’ve come to terms with my worth, so… you can rest easy knowing that I support your decision. Gon was hurt by my hand—I accept the consequences.”

“Killua—” Alluka started, but Chrollo swiftly interrupted her.

“Are you saying you aren’t remorseful over this?” he said.

“No—not at all,” Killua exclaimed, shaking his head. “I didn’t intend to hurt him. I didn’t even know where I was or if anyone was with me when I was put in the room. None of this could have been premeditated.”

Chrollo remained stoic and impassive in his seat, a souring look on his face. “So I guess you could say you were _scared_ ,” he said, and in that moment, the doors to the throne room opened.

Killua turned to look back at it, and his heart sank at the sound of wheels creaking on the tiles. A nurse came in, pushing a wheelchair with Gon sat in it. Despite how he looked, Gon had the biggest goddamn smile on his face.

He was barely close enough for Killua to whisper an apology before Gon was saying, “Cool battle scar, am I right?”

Killua couldn’t even stifle his laugh. He clasped a hand over his face to cover it, and looked back to find the Emperor rolling his eyes. “Yeah, cool battle scar. I just… wish it wasn’t me who caused it,” Killua confessed as Gon took control of the steering and wheeled up beside Killua on the tile. 

“Look, Gon—” he started, but Gon waved a hand to silence him.

“It was an accident. If anything I should… be apologizing for prompting it,” he confessed, turning away with a guilty look on his face.

“I was surprised—I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” Killua said. “I’m… not called ‘ _remarkable_ ’ very often,” he added in a whisper, and it brought Gon’s gaze up to meet his. Killua turned away with a blush coloring his pale cheeks. He reached a hand back to scratch his head. 

He caught Chrollo’s gaze and felt everything collide in his chest at once. 

Chrollo would never let Killua court Gon—especially after all of this. He had no right to even _attempt it_ , but… the kiss told him that it’d be worth a shot anyways. 

“You’re free to go, then,” Chrollo said, rising from the chair. He straightened the sleeves of his robes as Killua’s eyes widen. He shared a look with his sister, who had a small smile on her lips.

“Before I go,” Killua said, interrupting the Emperor’s attempt to leave. 

Chrollo gave him a dour look, which earned him a sigh from Gon. Killua ducked his head to look at his hands before meeting his stoney gaze again. “Since… Gon doesn’t have any parents, I suppose I should come to you to ask for permission to court him?”

He expected the Emperor to say something like, “ _Don’t push it,_ ” but he _certainly_ hadn’t expected a sigh of relief. 

“You asked the right person. I give you permission—just don’t ruin it for all of us,” he said.

When he left, Alluka didn’t. Instead, she stormed up to Killua before he could even turn to see what Gon’s expression looked like. The moment Alluka raised her hand, Killua was expecting it, and braced himself for Alluka to tug on his ear and yank him away from Gon’s side.

“I can’t believe you did this. I thought you were going to _die_ today,” Alluka hissed. 

“I know— _ouch_! Let go of my ear,” Killua cried, slapping at Alluka’s arm until Alluka started slapping at his hand, and they ended with a grudging resolve to step back. “Sorry for worrying you—”

“ _Sorry?_ Dear _gods_ , Killua, the Prince has fifteen stitches in his leg!” she shouted, gesturing with both hands to Gon, who was still in the wheelchair. Killua wasn’t expecting Gon’s eyes to be focused solely on him, though, and Gon smiled when their eyes connected from across the room. 

Killua was still distracted by Gon when Alluka enveloped him in a hug and breathed, “Don’t scare me like that again. Don’t do anything stupid like that again.”

“I promise I won’t,” Killua said, voice muffled in his sister’s shoulder. “I won’t do anything like that again.”

Alluka stepped back and rubbed her hands over her reddened eyes. She’d been crying, and the sentiment nearly had Killua doing the same. “Okay. I’m done. I’m sleeping for eleven hours and neither of you can stop me,” she said at last, and left without another word. Killua watched after his sister before realizing that the nurse was still there with them, as were several… angry guards.

“Chrollo’s orders,” Gon said, but he didn’t seem at all put off by it. “Kurapika will be supervising us for a while, too.”

“Oh goodie,” Killua sighed, stepping over to take control of the wheelchair. He barely reached it before Gon’s hand was reaching for his, and he ducked down onto his knees to meet Gon at his new level.

They both hesitated, and Killua eventually filled the silence with a soft, “I shouldn’t have acted violently.”

“It was justified, but Killua—”

“That… was my first kiss,” he confessed, lifting his eyes up from where Gon had linked their fingers together. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Gon’s cheeks were red, and it spread all the way up to the tips of his pointed ears. Killua laughed nervously, and said, “Sorry… you probably didn’t need to know that.”

“No- I- That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Gon said, voice choking up as Killua gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder. 

“Shut up…”

“Want to try again?” he asked, grin bordering on cheeky as Killua turned into a red, flustering mess and whined, “You’re too much!” He put his forehead on the armrest of Gon’s chair as Gon giggled and slumped over him with a flourish of “aw!”s. 

In the end, Killua wheeled Gon up to his room. Of course, stairs made it difficult to do so, and the guards wouldn’t let Killua carry Gon himself, so he carried the wheelchair up while one of the guards lifted Gon bridal-style to the second floor. They wouldn’t let Killua set a single toe into Gon’s bedroom, so they said a simultaneous good-night, good-morning before departing for the day. Killua was too exhausted for anything more than that after spending the night up in a _goddamn tree._

With Leorio, Kurapika, and Machi’s good work, Gon was back on his feet before any of them thought possible. He was quick to work around the guard’s rules and would barge into Killua’s room with next to no notice. He started to expect it, though, so no notice was needed for it after a while.

But before all that, before Gon could walk again, Killua would wheel him around the palace in between meals and they’d talk endlessly. Gon was still plagued by the illusion of Killua insisted that none of this should be happening, but every time he saw and talked to Killua, it was difficult for him to think of anyone else. Killua had Gon’s full attention, and nothing would change that, not even his imagination.

Regardless of how well things were going, Gon couldn’t help but worry about _other_ things that could prevent it. He was starting to lose his appetite again, and Leorio’s examinations concluded that he had about a week before another episode like the last one occurred. 

“There’s… something that’s been worrying me,” Gon confessed one day at the edge of the garden. Killua looked so beautiful, backlit by the sunlight streaming in through the ceiling windows. 

“What is it?” he asked, kneeling in front of Gon again, his hands resting on Gon’s knees.

“It’s about… that night I kissed you,” he started, his nerves turning his cheeks pink. “I’m not sure if you know this, but… I’m not _entirely_ human. And sometimes my instincts get the better of me. They sometimes make me… _forward_ with my emotions, and I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything my instincts might want.”

“If you’re not entirely human, what are you?” Killua asked, confident as ever. 

“I’m part nymph,” he said, ducking his head. “Which is to say I don’t get the instinct pureblooded nymphs do to—”

“—Kill their partners,” Killua finished. “So that night…”

“I never intended to be so forward about how I felt. I was so nervous about you coming in that I just… I just sort of gave in to my instincts because they make me feel calmer. More confident,” he confessed. 

“But everything your instincts want—you want as well?” Killua argued, and Gon gave a half shrug. “I trust you, Gon. Whatever you want, I’ll be there for you. And sure it was a surprise, but now I can expect it more often. I don’t want you to be nervous around me, okay?”

Gon’s smile made the agreement all the more worthwhile. Killua stood up and laid a kiss to Gon’s forehead before insisting they keep moving. A weight was lifted from Gon’s shoulders, and he told himself that maybe… it’d be fun to find out what his instincts want once in a while. 

Just maybe.


	5. Chapter 5

“Take it slow—we don’t want anything to go wrong by putting strain on the fresh scar tissue,” Leorio warned Gon as they walked together down the hall. 

Gon had a hand viciously clenching Leorio’s forearm—not that it hurt to walk or anything, just simply out of sheer _worry_. His nerves were bundling up all around his aching stomach where the bloating was getting worse. The longer his illness went on, the more he worried about Leorio’s situation.

Leorio wasn’t from the area and just happened to be staying with a doctor in the city when Hazama came by. And while the cure wasn’t setting in yet—he and Killua hadn’t gotten that far yet—Gon was determined to do everything he could to make a swift recovery and to give Leorio a swift return home. 

But in order to do that, he had to take a few _things_ into consideration. Killua’s limits were a necessary evil during these times, and his ignorance was on Gon’s part. The last thing he wanted was for obvious pressure to be put on the man, and being forward with his emotions would—

Gon felt something touch his shoulder, and turned to look away from Leorio, and to the image of Killua walking in stride with him. Gon’s steps hesitated, and a blush blossomed across his cheeks as Killua held up that violet flower, and slipped it behind Gon’s ear. His fingers were gentle, and Gon was frozen by the hot intensity of Killua’s stare…

“Are you daydreaming again, Gon?” Leorio asked. It wasn’t an accusatory question, but Gon always felt like his daydreams were off limits these days. Even if it _was_ his imagination, this version of Killua made him feel like he was cheating on the _real_ one. 

Killua laid a finger to his lips again, but Gon learned fast that there wouldn’t be any repercussions if he dismissed his hallucinations once in a while. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he confessed, turning away from Killua and absently brushing his hand over his shoulder. Killua dropped his fingers from Gon’s hair, and stood staring after Gon as they started to walk away.

They walked in another circle around the garden until Gon’s sides began to cramp. “I don’t think I can keep going,” he confessed, sweat already collecting on his forehead. “I’m not feeling the greatest, if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s fine. You did good today. You shouldn’t need supervision walking, so I’ll let your guards know that they shouldn’t be alarmed to see you up and out of bed,” Leorio reassured him. “What’s troubling you?”

Gon laid a hand over his stomach. 

He spent the rest of the day in bed, reading until his eyes grew tired of it. Knuckle came by to visit him, and took up where Gon left off in the book. Gon closed his eyes to the sound of Knuckle’s voice, mainly so that he wouldn’t have to look at the illusion of Killua laying beside him with his head upon Gon’s chest. He knew that this Killua couldn’t be real because he was so light that even his touch felt like a feather.

“I ran into Leorio on the way here—he wants you to at _least_ drink some water if you aren’t going to go to dinner,” Knuckle said, setting the book down to reach for the pitcher of water one of the servants brought in. 

Gon groaned but grudgingly accepted the offer. He took small sips at a time until he choked at the sight of someone wandering in through his bedroom door with a guard following him. Any sighting of Killua had Gon’s daydreams scattering into a misty, violet cloud until he was left alone in his bed with Knuckle at his side, book turned over in his lap.

“Killua!” Gon squeaked. 

“I… heard you weren’t feeling great,” he said, coming to stand at the end of the bed.

“You—! You aren’t supposed to be in here, are you?” Gon asked, voice pitched high as Killua laughed. His cheeks turned all shades of red. 

“No, I’m not. Kurapika bullied the guards for me,” he confessed, smiling at the less-than-amused guard beside him. “And Knuckle’s here so I don’t think I’d be able to _do anything_.”

Gon followed the gentle curve of Killua’s lips turning into a smirk. Everything in Gon threatened to combust at the suggestion, and something feral inside of him wanted to shove both Knuckle and the guard out so he could find out what Killua meant by “anything.” 

Instead of giving in—though _giving in_ gave Gon the same feeling of eating untold amounts of sweets without any reservation or scorn—Gon’s eyes went wide as his ears flushed, and Knuckle went on laughing at Gon’s reaction. Gon lashed out and flicked his friend in the arm as Killua came to sit on the edge of the bed.

Killua propped a leg up underneath his opposite knee and reached for the book on Knuckle’s lap. “What are you two reading?” he asked.

“ _Fair Weather Affairs_. A classic,” Knuckle said. “We’ve just gotten to the part where the main character leaves her wife and—”

“Don’t spoil anything!” Gon squeaked. “He probably hasn’t read it! It’s ridiculous and doesn’t seem like your type of reading, Killua.”

Killua paged through and read a part of the preface before saying, “A _romance_. Sounds like your type of gig. And you’re right—I don’t usually have the patience for romance novels.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in the libraries though. What else would you be reading if not romantic eroticas?” Knuckle teased as Gon groaned into his hands.

Killua flushed and took to distracting himself with the book before confessing, “I’ve… actually been doing research on nymphs. I’ve heard the Nakulian Palace has the largest collection of both nymphal texts and medicinal plants.”

“Strange combination—I know,” Knuckle laughed, leaning back in his chair as Killua handed the novel back to him. 

“Nymphs? Why?” Gon asked, eyes wide. He wondered how much Killua dug into. Most of the texts were on pureblooded nymphs, and most of it was untrue to halfblooded nymphs like himself. But… with everything surrounding Gon, multiple studies came out around his kind at the request of Hazama searching for more information about what to expect when it came to raising a halfblooded nymph.

“Well… I have to admit I don’t know much of _anything_ about nymphs,” Killua confessed. “And our talk the other day got me thinking about them.”

Gon remembered it clearly, and felt guilty for not explaining what, exactly, he meant by his instincts. Killua must have just assumed the innocent details about it, but every now and then Gon had to fight the flare of passion that welled up inside because he knew his immediate romantic notions were far more intense than anything Killua was ready for. Pureblooded nymphs were known for being ruthlessly compelling, and would go so far as to hypnotize their conquests. 

Gon had never gone that far, as far as he knew, because Knuckle had always been lucid during their encounters when Gon fell in and out of love with him. 

But… Killua didn’t seem all that nervous to talk to Gon, even after studying books on nymphs. “Is it true you can shapeshift?” he asked. 

“Oh! No, only pureblooded nymphs can shapeshift,” he said quickly. “I haven’t been able to do much more than control water once in a while.”

“So water’s your element then?” Killua asked, and Gon nodded. “That must be incredible. It makes sense that you live right next to the ocean, then.”

“Yeah… Chrollo and I have done plenty of speculating about that…” Gon confessed as he scratched at his chin. When it became clear that Gon was half nymph, and what his element was, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that his father came from the ocean itself, right out of their backyard. It would have been easy for their mother to encounter water nymphs. 

“We should go to the ocean some time,” Killua said. “I’ve never been on a beach before.”

“ _Ever?_ ” Gon cried, bolting up and regretting it instantly. He tipped over with a moan of discomfort. The severity of it had saliva building in his mouth, and he floundered franticly for Knuckle to—

“Shit! Oh no, hold on!” Knuckle shrieked, and shouted at the guard to get the buckets as Gon clasped a hand over his mouth and tried to hold it in. 

Killua leaned over to help Gon over to the edge of the bed. The instant the bucket was there, Gon’s throat convulsed and sent a hiccup gasping out of him. Water spilled out into the bucket, followed by dozens upon dozens of flower petals he spat off of his tongue. The strain of it sent his eyes watering, but he barely had time to recover before he was heaving again. 

“Get Doctor Leorio!” Knuckle ordered one of the guards, who ran off out of the room as Killua rubbed circles over Gon’s back and tried his best not to look in the bucket.

But he couldn’t stop staring once he saw a full flower, crumpled and smushed, drop among the others—covered in saliva and bile and whatever else happened to be in Gon’s stomach. The leaves were more recognizable than the rest, but Killua saw enough dragon’s tongue in his days to know what it looked like, even regurgitated from someone’s stomach.

“What’s he doing eating _dragon’s tongue?_ ” Killua asked Knuckle.

“Long story…” Knuckle said, waving his hands nervously as he swiftly swapped buckets and hurried to dump the contents down the toilet. 

Gon leant back, unable to control his sobs as he dissolved into a fit of weathered emotions. He put his hands over his face so Killua couldn’t see him cry, but his face turned blotchy and he had to take the towel Killua offered him to wipe his mouth and eyes anyways. The pain in his stomach had him tipping onto his side, curled up into a fetal position as Killua pushed his hair back and took a damp towel from Knuckle to lay it over Gon’s forehead. He started coughing so hard that his voice turned into a rasp as he coughed up petals into the tissue Knuckle gave him.

It was during this lull that Leorio arrived with Hazama on his heels, and pushed Killua aside to check Gon’s state. He laid a stethoscope to Gon’s back and asked him to take deep breaths. After a few moments, Leorio lowered the stethoscope in silence.

“What is it?” Hazama demanded. “This is just like last time, isn’t it?”

“It’s reached his lungs,” Leorio all but whispered, turning his tired eyes up to them. “I… didn’t expect it to move this quickly.”

“What does that mean?” Killua said. “This has happened before?”

The room fell silent aside from Gon’s rattled breathing. Leorio stood from the bed and took Hazama aside, and as they left, Knuckle dropped to his knees beside Gon and said things like, “It’ll be fine, just hang in there.”

“It _hurts_ …” Gon cried, gasping as tears collected on his eyelids like frozen rain droplets. 

“What is it? What’s wrong with him?” Killua demanded, voice shaking as he turned to where Hazama was coming back. He reached a hand out to Killua, and everything about his body language told Killua that Gon was dying. 

And that was how Killua learned the truth about halfblooded nymphs. 

. . .

When Kurapika heard the news that Gon relapsed, he found Killua sitting outside of the bedroom door with his arms over his knees, and his head against them. His footsteps slowed, and the sound prompted Killua to look up, and for Kurapika to see his red, tearful eyes. 

“This is all my fault,” he croaked, and Kurapika hid the shock on his face as Killua’s voice faded into another sob he hid against his arms. “I- I keep _fucking this up—_ ”

Kurapika lowered himself down to Killua’s level, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “ _Literally_ no one could have predicted this. Hanahaki happens at random—it could have been with anyone Gon fell in love with.”

“I _know_ , but what kind of _luck is it_ that it _just so happened_ to be with _me?_ ” he hissed, viciously rubbing his sleeves over his eyes. When he cried, it looked like he was smiling, and the sight just caused Kurapika’s throat to close up when he swallowed back his sorrows about the circumstances.

“I know, it’s unfortunate,” he sighed. 

They lapsed into silence as Killua tried to steady his breathing, but it still hiccuped and lurched when he thought about Gon in there, and how much pain he must be in. He was suffocating because of _Killua_. If Killua had never come here… 

“It’s in his lungs,” he said at last, tipping his head back against the wall. “Leorio doesn’t know how long he has.”

“Oh gods…” Kurapika said, looking back at the doors. They were closed, and all the guards looked as stoic as they could be. 

Killua brushed his hands over his cheeks again and said, “I haven’t cried since I was five and my father told me to be quiet and suck it up. It feels weird.” 

“The worst part about crying is how you feel afterwards,” Kurapika said, and smiled when Killua offered a curt laugh.

As soon as Killua quieted, he turned stiff and uncomfortable, and lifted his knees back up as if to block his face. “You should… check on Gon, then. I’ll just be here.”

“Okay,” Kurapika agreed, and stood up without a moment to waste. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no way _not_ to be after seeing Killua cry like that. Crying in public just seemed to bring out the best in people like Kurapika, who never considered himself to be a comforter to begin with. 

Kurapika shuddered at the thought and shook his head as he passed the guards. He pushed inside and regretted it almost immediately, because the sound of Gon retching nearly made him vomit right on the threshold. Hand on his chest, he swallowed back the bile he was about to hurl across the room. 

“Oh thank the gods—Kurapika!” Knuckle cried across the room, half-jogging across the room. He thrust a bucket into Kurapika’s hands, and he held it with his thumb and forefinger a distance away. “I need a breather—you take over.”

“Wait— _what?_ Knuckle—! Oh for gods’ sakes,” he exclaimed, stomping his foot as Knuckle booked it out of the bedroom as fast as he possibly could. 

Kurapika turned back to the room, grimacing as he saw Hazama look at him from where he was rubbing Gon’s back where the sweat turned his clothes a dark blue. 

“Glad you could join us, Kurapika,” Hazama said sarcastically, and Kurapika laughed insincerely back. The last thing he wanted was to be on the Bucket Support Team.

“Emperor Chrollo’s concerned. He’s wondering why this happened when Killua and Gon are together,” he said as he walked over and passed the bucket to Hazama. Gon laid back on the bed then, wheezing with a hand over his heart. His breath rattled in his chest. 

_Killua did say it reached Gon’s lungs_... Kurapika thought as he stopped by Gon’s bedside and caught his gaze.

“It could be that Gon doesn’t think Killua’s affections are genuine—either that, or his mind is convincing him not to believe it,” Leorio explained.

“What can we do to change his mind then?” he demanded. “In case you’ve _forgotten_ , we’ve got a lot at stake over this.”

“I know, I know—I’ve been trying to think of something but I- I can’t with—” They all hesitated at the sound of Gon coughing into the bucket. The sound just echoed against the metal and had Kurapika shuddering in response. 

Kurapika nudged Leorio aside and said, “I’ll take over here. You go ‘ _think of something._ ’”

Leorio looked cautiously over to the imperial advisor, who was exiting the bathroom with a disgruntled sigh. Hazama and Leorio shared a look before Leorio nodded and ran off into the hallway, grabbing his medical bag along the way. 

He was hardly past the guards before he realized that Killua was still there. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the lad, aside from devastation and guilt. The two other patients he treated had similar partners—guilt-ridden for having caused this effect, and Killua was no different. Leorio slowed in the hallway, shouldering his bag as Killua hurried to his feet, face paler than usual.

“How… How is he? Is he going to be all right?” he asked.

Leorio learned a thing or two about being a doctor, and it was how to be elusive with the truth. “Gon’s condition is bad, yes, but… I think there’s still hope.”

“What can I do? Did I do something wrong? I thought—he was better before, why suddenly…?” Killua asked, floundering for words until Leorio waved a hand to silence him.

“It was bound to happen again, and I don’t believe it’s your fault. Any affection you can offer Gon is by far more helpful than any medical tests I can do. But if anything, I think he’s doing this to himself by accident,” Leorio explained.

Killua ducked his head, driven to silence by the fact that he couldn’t trust his own words. Leorio looked down the hall, his plan still formulating in the back of his mind as he laid a hand on Killua’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve… done research on nymphs? Knuckle mentioned it in there.”

“I have, yes.”

“Then you know about their overactive imaginations,” Leorio said. “When you aren’t with Gon, he sees apparitions of you insisting he keep quiet about his affections for you. It’s his mind’s way of self-destructing, so to speak. The less he opens up to you, the more likely you’ll be to hold back your own feelings.

“This is _not_ your fault, Killua. We don’t expect you to be there for him constantly, especially before you knew what was going on. But now that you do, I have to warn you—the Emperor will try to pressure you into loving Gon, but Gon will never find your affections genuine unless you take your time in accepting them. Does that make sense?”

“We don’t have time for that, though, do we?” Killua asked quietly.

“We have a little more time than you probably think,” he said, voice quiet. “Once this episode is over, his stomach and lungs will be clear, and he’ll have another week or so before they grow back and make it uncomfortable for him to eat or breathe.”

Killua put a hand over his face as Leorio let go of him. He took his leave then, though when he turned to look back at Killua, he found the boy already disappearing into Gon’s room. The guards no longer sought to stop him, because if anyone could cure their precious Prince, it was Killua.

So off Leorio went, on the hunt to search for a bizarre lead that was really all they had in the defense against Gon’s hanahaki disease. Leorio considered this theory plenty of times in the hindsight of his previous cases, but… he could never trust it fully. How could he, being a man of science and intellect? 

Hypnosis just didn’t seem plausible, but it was worth the shot.

Leorio requested a carriage to take him into the city where he returned to the stoop of the house Hazama found him staying at. He consulted his fellow physician on where to find psychics and sorcerers in the city, and together the two of them drove around the city going to every door with signs surrounding the impossible—from tarot cards to palmistry, to party magicians and alchemists. They came close with the alchemist, but the risk was too high. 

Leorio hadn’t mentioned the status of his patient at all, but one mention of “hanahaki” and people would start raising their eyebrows and scratching their temples. The only half-nymph around was the Prince himself. It’d be too obvious.

It grew too dark to continue going around knocking on doors, so Leorio stayed in the city overnight. The carriage driver who took him to the city sent word to Hazama, informing him that Leorio would be out for the next day searching for the hypnotist they decided upon.

At last, the following morning they came to a beachside manor where the front steps were dusted with sand. Leorio climbed the stoop and banged the iron knocker against the wood five times before anyone answered. There was a crude illustration in the window of a clock ticking in the face of gems and cards, and though the open sign was down, the door was soon answered.

Several locks came undone, though when the door at last opened, the image of the woman was obscured by several chains still keeping the door safely secured. 

“What is it? What do you want?” she demanded.

Taken aback, Leorio stuttered for a moment before saying “Oh—Um, hello. I’ve been going across the city in search of a hypnotist? Do you happen to practice hypnotism at this establishment?”

She squinted her eyes at him, a bit of her heavy blonde hair falling out of her headband as she shrugged. “Depends on what your price is,” she said.

“I have a price offer, but I need to see that you’re capable of hypnotizing me, first.” _If I’m to trust anyone with Gon, I should be able to trust them myself_ , he thought.

The woman looked him up and down before slamming the door shut. Leorio stepped back in alarm, and looked back at the carriage where his friend was waiting for him. Just as Leorio was about to descend the stairs, the final locks came undone and the heavy oak door swung open. 

“What’re you waitin’ for? Come in, come in,” she said hastily, waving Leorio inside. 

Leorio was instantly burdened by the awful stench of burnt sage. It was heavy and coated his lungs as he followed the woman into a room full of windows covered by tapestries and curtains. They took to sitting on the floor cushions where the woman shook out the bracelets on her wrists. 

“I don’t hypnotize people for the wrong reasons, understood?” she said gruffly. “By that I mean—is what we’re doing illegal?”

“ _Illegal?_ Oh, no, not at all,” he reassured her, smiling weakly.

“Good. Now eyes up here,” she demanded, gesturing to her own eyes. The instant Leorio met her gaze, she clapped her hands in front of him, sending her bracelets jangling. Leorio’s mind vanished from him, disappearing into the void where the woman pulled on his memories by asking, “When I clap again, you tell me why you are hiring me. _Everything_.”

She clapped her hands again, and Leorio straightened as if he had just woken up in the back of a long ride in the carriage. The words began falling form his mouth before he could stop them, and it was all along the lines of everything confidential that the Emperor swore he would contain to himself. That his brother was ill with hanahaki, and that he had fallen in love with the Prince of a recently-acquired country, and that as of right now, Gon was dying and that a hypnotist was the only thing he could think of to save the Prince.

The instant he came-to, his first sight was of the woman’s startled expression. Clearly, he had overshared. 

Before he could apologize and fret over when the Emperor was going to send his guards in and kill him where he sat, the woman held out a hand. “You can call me Bisky. I’ll do what I can to help our Prince—assuming the pay is good.”

“You’ll be rewarded handsomely,” Leorio reassured her, a breath of relief passing through him as the woman stood and helped him up.


	6. Chapter 6

Killua didn’t sleep much the following night despite the fact that his sister fought for eight hours of rest for the both of them. Alluka came in an hour or so before sunrise after having woken up to the thought of whether or not Killua was even sleeping. From there, she hurried to Gon’s quarters in search of Gon, and instead ran into Emperor Chrollo on the way, speaking to the nurse charged with taking over Hazama’s place in the room.

Alluka hesitated at the end of the hall. The Emperor’s presence was intimidating, to say the least, and recognizable even from this distance. Not only that, but security had collected down the hall as an assurance. It was hard to miss the glares she received as warnings on her way to the Prince’s wing. 

Alluka looked to one of the guards and asked, “Is Killua here?” 

When the guard looked at her sharply, she squinted at him, suddenly grateful that she had the common sense to make herself decent before running a marathon across the palace. 

The Emperor heard her from down the hall. Alluka, along with all of the guards, straightened like their military training prepared them for this exact moment. 

Alluka resisted the urge to salute as the Emperor strode towards her. Did Nakulian militia salute their Emperor? And if so, how did they salute? 

Chrollo slowed, his robes swaying around the heavy leather of his boots as he met Alluka’s eyes and said, “What is it you think you’re doing here.”

“With all due respect: Killua’s no good to Gon if he’s not at his best condition, your Magesty,” Alluka replied, her eyes sharper than the rest of her. 

The Emperor’s tense shoulders relaxed, just a fraction—enough for Alluka to notice beneath his stiff shoulder pads. He tipped his head, an eyebrow raised. He gleaned something off of Alluka’s posture, of which Alluka couldn’t be certain. Still, it made her conscious of how she held her hands together against her lower back, sweating through her clothes.

“I think we can all agree that Killua is most useful being here with Gon,” Chrollo stressed. “The moment this disease took my brother, it became Killua’s sworn duty to prevent it from killing Gon.”

“I realize this, your Majesty, but Killua can’t do that if he hasn’t had a full night’s rest,” Alluka said, eye contact breaking. She glanced ahead, down the hall where Gon’s room door was left open.

A moment of silence passed. She could feel the Emperor’s eyes on her, and she felt it akin to how he had addressed her during Killua’s escapade up in a tree. That night, the Emperor had sat and watched her while his advisor explained the dilemma to her.

She felt more like a show horse the longer the silence stretched. 

And then, Chrollo clasped his hands behind him, relaxed his stance, and commented, “You were military. Is that correct?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“For how long?”

She glanced at him. He was still watching her with those impassive, glittering grey eyes. They looked fake to her. “Since I was fifteen, sir. I became a lieutenant at the age of nineteen, and now here I am. And yourself?”

The comment had a slow, easy grin tugging at the corners of the Emperor’s lips. Had Gon witnessed this moment, he would have attested to it being the first genuine smile he had seen on his brother in months. 

“I commanded a unit of fifty-thousand soldiers at the age of seventeen. I’ve outgrown the title ‘general’—unless you find it necessary for my assistant to recount my titles.”

“It sounds to me like you were playing an expensive game of chess at a young age.”

“And what was the size of your squad?”

Alluka clenched her teeth. She could see where this was going. “I don’t need to state my credentials since I’m under the impression that you don’t really care to know.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” he said. He stepped closer, and Alluka heard the guards nearest them shift. “Which also means that being a lieutenant doesn’t give you clearance to Killua anymore—and neither does being his sister.”

“I’d like to politely disagree,” Alluka said, and for a second, she thought he was going to laugh. “Killua’s physical and mental health is just as important here.”

Chrollo licked his lips, his hands sweeping his robes back to settle on his hips as he hissed, “Killua is not the one currently _dying_. My brother’s needs _far_ outweigh—”

“Your power does not give you the right to undermine the health of your inferiors,” Alluka snapped, her patience cracking under her sharp tongue and even sharper eyes. 

Hazama had long since switched places with Machi, but Alluka imagined that Hazama would have been up in arms at this point. 

Instead, there was no one between them—only an audience of half a dozen guards waiting for the moment when Chrollo was _certain_ to have Alluka escorted out of the Prince’s wing.

Alluka held Chrollo’s gaze resolutely and without hesitation. She waited as Chrollo’s jaw ticked, and that frustration melted, slowly but surely. 

“It’s nearly dawn and Killua hasn’t slept. Do you think he’ll continue to help Gon tomorrow when he’s delirious and exhausted?” 

“This isn’t up for discussion—with you _or_ Killua,” Chrollo answered immediately. He tipped his head to the side as Alluka sucked in a sharp breath, fully prepared to _go off_. “He gets seven hours. No more than that. Kurapika—”

“I’ll make sure of it, sir,” his assistant said, and together, he and Alluka watched the Emperor walk off with his entourage of guards.

Alluka stared after him, her jaw descending to the floor. She turned to Kurapika, who’s eyebrows were on the ceiling. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard guests speak to him that way,” Kurapika confessed.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how long I get to keep _that_ title,” Alluka said with a gruff sigh. If she kept _that_ up, she was certain the Emperor would classify her more as a “nuisance” rather than a “guest.”

Alluka took this opportunity to go to fetch Killua from Gon’s bed, where he was sitting on a stool beside the mattress with his head on the comforter, half-asleep. When Alluka nudged him awake, Killua looked up from where his cheek left a red mark on his forearm, delirious and exhausted. Kurapika watched from the door as Alluka wrangled Killua up, an arm around his shoulders, and guided him out of the room. 

After they left, Kurapika told the guards to shut the doors and not let anyone else in until Leorio or Chrollo returned. Machi could handle Gon for now. 

It didn’t take long for Chrollo to return, however. Shortly after Alluka and Killua left, he could be seen returning down the corridor to claim a spot on the edge of Gon’s bed. There, in the early, dusty morning light, he took a moment to simply watch his brother’s weakened breath lift his chest and flatten it.

Chrollo reached a hand over and combed it through Gon’s damp hair before eventually, slowly, lowering himself to his side. He laid with his fingers still laced through Gon’s hair, combing it gently through the morning until the sun rose behind the golden curtains and Gon woke up to a fit of coughing.

Meanwhile, Killua laid awake trying to fall asleep, and feeling guilty and irritated because he couldn’t. He wasted two hours lying there with his eyes closed before groaning and deciding he couldn’t do it, not when Gon was suffering because of him. 

Killua wasn’t blind, and he certainly wasn’t deaf. He heard the way people back at home referred to him, and he could see it every now and then when he looked in the mirror. It wasn’t _his_ fault he was seen as beautiful, and with the uniforms being a consistent thing, he had no reason to dress shabby to avoid the rumors. Both men and women at the garrison used to stop and stare as he walked across the central grounds. He could vividly remember hearing someone say, “The uniforms are so bland and yet he looks so good in them.”

He’d be lying if he said those comments didn’t unnerve him. He’d be lying if he said those comments didn’t make him self-conscious and worried about how he looked. He’d be lying if he said he liked the spotlight. It was a good thing, then, whenever Alluka visited from afar. She tended to take the spotlight back at home, and navigated it far better than Killua ever did.

And now? 

Now Killua was in the spotlight, and even the Emperor depended on him to play his part.

With a groan, Killua threw down his blankets and sat up. He climbed out of bed and dressed for the day. If he got tired, he’d just drink some coffee and keep going until he dropped. It would be the only way he could _actually_ sleep without fretting over Gon and everyone else who depended on him.

When he returned to Gon’s quarters, Chrollo was there, along with the voices of several others rising up around Gon’s bed like some bizarre, cultish gathering. Killua hesitated at the open doors, and took to standing off to the side as he observed the new face among them. 

“I am entrusting Gon’s life with you. Should you do _anything—_ ”

“That would never be my intention,” the woman said, crossing her arms in front of her as if to ward off the thought. “You can trust that I will keep the Prince safe from harm.”

The Emperor hardly seemed convinced by the woman’s compliance, and simply turned away with his arms crossed. He caught sight of Killua hovering on the edge of things, and crossed the room to see him as Hazama began questioning the strange woman with blonde hair.

“Gon was asking for you earlier—he woke up an hour or so ago,” Chrollo whispered to Killua as he came to stand beside him.

“Has there been a change in plans?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Chrollo.

He nodded, and released a disgruntled, grudging sigh. “Yes… Doctor Leorio thinks that… if we are able to _bypass_ Gon’s hallucinations, the process might go smoother. He and Hazama have hired a _hypnotist_.”

“You don’t seem very fond of the change,” Killua scoffed, and realized that they were mimicking each others stances. He dropped his arms to his sides. “Why?”

“Because the event has to take place without anyone else—otherwise anyone with Miss Bisky and Gon will likely be hypnotized as well. She could, potentially, have Gon do whatever she wants if it _works,_ ” the Emperor said, jaw ticking as he glowered at the woman nodding along to everything Hazama and Leorio said. “We had no intention of letting her in on who Gon was to prevent anything from happening, but now that she knows who he is and who he has access to, she could potentially have him… _gods_ , I don’t even want to think about it.”

Chrollo pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I only hope that this all goes well.”

When the time came for Bisky to put her magic to work, Leorio helped Gon sit up without upsetting his stomach. It was during one of the lull times in between episodes that they decided to do this. Gon was pale and sweaty, and was looking at Killua from across the room like the day they first _really_ saw one another—sat on opposite ends of the dining room table, stuck in a staring contest. Only, now it didn’t seem so uncommon for Killua to bridge the gap between them, and take the hand Gon held out to him. 

“You’ll be here, right?” Gon said in a whisper, and his breath sounded like crinkling paper. 

“No—I’ll just be out in the hall until it’s done,” Killua said. “You’ll see me after.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise,” he said, and gave Gon’s hand another squeeze before giving him up to Bisky.

The session didn’t take any longer than it did with Leorio, though instead of a long, drawn out story of what Bisky was getting into, Gon remained quiet upon Killua’s reentry. Killua looked nervously back at Chrollo, who was charged with staying outside of the room until there was a conclusion to this entire ordeal. Once Chrollo saw that Gon was all right, he walked off down the hall, his guards following in his footsteps. 

When Killua looked back to the bed, Gon’s eyes were on him, and they were wide. Cheeks pink, pallid skin glistening with sweat. Gon’s hands were fisted in the sheets as Killua glanced at Bisky, who was already leaving with Hazama at her elbow.

Someone’s hand slapped on Killua’s back.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan now—not that you didn’t before, but you know what I mean,” Leorio said with a laugh, and Killua would have laughed too had they not been interrupted by a feral growl from the bed. 

“Hands off,” Gon hissed, about to push himself completely out of the bed until Killua hurried to restrain him. Gon was glaring daggers at Leorio, whose alarm faded in a matter of seconds. He took to clasping his hands behind his back while Killua pushed Gon back onto the pillows with a firm order to stay in bed. 

“Tell him to leave—I don’t want him here,” Gon demanded, looking sharply at Killua, who let out an amused laugh and looked to Leorio for clarification.

“Seems Bisky’s magic worked,” Leorio informed them. “I was surprised by Gon’s compliance the past few days—normally nymphs who are freshly in love are possessive of their mates.”

Killua’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Gon pulled Killua closer to the bedside, leaning into him so Killua could feel the clamminess of his bare skin and the heat of his fever. 

All of the motion had Gon hiccuping in the back of his throat again. Killua kicked over a bucket and picked it up, holding it to Gon’s lap as he doubled over and vomited into it. Killua shuddered at the sound, and wondered how long Gon would have to keep this up before everything in his stomach was gone.

**. . . **

At the end of the day, Gon was feeling relatively better and eating again. 

He continuously tried to convince Killua that they were both supposed to be on the bed, but Killua refused until the sheets were cleaned and made again. After that, he had no real reason to oppose Gon, and so he wound up reading _Fair Weathered Affairs_ for several hours while Gon laid on his chest and glared at anyone who approached the bed—even Knuckle. 

“Leorio says Gon should be back to normal in a week or so. And by normal… I think he means not… like this…” Knuckle said, scratching the side of his head as he made eye contact with the possessive demon that appeared to have taken over Gon’s body and soul. 

“It’s fine. I think it’s funny,” Killua admitted, running his hands through Gon’s hair. “I feel like I’m petting a dog.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Gon muttered into his shirt. 

“At least we know it’s working. That’s all I’ve got to say,” Knuckle said, sharing a genuine smile with Killua.

Gon’s shift in attitude started to fade the more his health improved. His voice was still raspy from spending days throwing up, and eventually, when Leorio was allowed near Gon, he determined that Gon would suffer temporary breathing problems while the roots of the issue decayed. 

“It’ll take about a month until you’re completely back to normal,” Leorio said, and Gon nodded in understanding, busying himself with buttoning his shirt back up. “In the meantime, you can start walking around again without a problem. You’ve given your leg enough of a break as it is.”

Leorio left then, and Killua walked back to the bed only to be tackled and pinned to the mattress. Gon’s long legs ensnared him, and his giggling brought a giddy smile to Killua’s face. Gon twisted them so he landed on top, and sat up with his hands pressed firmly to Killua’s chest, keeping him down.

“I want to show you the ocean,” Gon said. 

“Do you now?” Killua laughed. “And do what?”

“Go swimming,” he said.

“And?”

Gon leaned in so their smug grins barely touched. “And I want to do this to you on the sand,” he whispered before closing the gap between their mouths in a long, quiet kiss. “And in the water…” he breathed, kissing Killua again until they were out of air to share.

Killua panted against Gon’s lips, pushing himself to his elbows as his chest rose and fell, and he said, “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

Killua had no reason to learn how to swim, but Gon was adamant on teaching him. They threw on swim trunks underneath their clothes and Gon led the way to the kitchen where one of the servants helped them pack a picnic for the trip. Killua carried the basket on the way down while Gon carried towels, and the guards trailed along behind them with a massive blanket tossed over one of their shoulders. 

With their free hands, they held on to one another, arms swinging as they descended the hill to the ocean, and passed the tree where Killua hid the night Gon first kissed him.

The ocean began to roar like blood pulsing in Killua’s muffled ears. He squinted at the sun as it glared on the water, and when his eyes adjusted, his shoes started sinking in the hot sand. The breeze was cold on his face, but the sun warmed Killua’s shoulders and hair in a matter of seconds. Gon was absolutely glowing, and his smile was everything Killua could have hoped to see in his lifetime.

“Do you like it?” Gon asked as Killua lowered the basket down.

The ocean did funny things to Killua, and with Gon holding his hand, that was all that tethered him to the world. His body felt light as he took in a deep breath of that salty sea air, closing his eyes along the way. He brought his boot up and tugged it off. The moment his bare foot touched the sand, he felt a shiver course through his veins. 

“I love it,” he said, opening his eyes again. “Teach me how to swim?”

Gon was eager to comply, and while they undressed and raced to the water’s edge, the guards set up the cushioned blanket for them and tucked the picnic basket within it. 

The water was chilly, but not unbearable, and Killua stood ankle-deep and watched the tides come in. Gon stuck to his side, and Killua smiled as he realized that Gon was doing everything he could to stand between Killua and the handful of guards who accompanied them down here. He looked back at Gon, only to find his boyfriend scowling at the guards and gesturing for them to go somewhere else, but the captain of them shook his head sternly. 

Killua laid a hand to Gon’s arm and said, “Relax—if anything they’re staring at you.”

“As if! I’m sure they’re all hot and bothered at the sight of The Most Beautiful Man Alive being shirtless for once,” Gon whined under his breath, kicking his foot at the next oncoming wave. Killua held onto him to prevent them both from falling over.

Killua rolled his eyes at the title. “Gon, come on…”

“I’m serious,” he pouted, shoulders bunching up at his ears. He turned to the side and coughed into his elbow. It was a dry cough that provided them with nothing—not so much as one single petal.

Killua laughed and tipped his head onto Gon’s shoulder as they wadded deeper. Their feet touched a slippery, flat rock, and so they stood on there and let the waves lift them up. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Killua said with a smile, hugging to Gon’s arm.

He gradually grew used to the temperature despite his chattering teeth, but he _certainly_ couldn’t get used to how weightless he felt in the water. Gon grounded him, though, and remained tethered to Killua by their connected hands whenever a wave came in and buffeted them.

They were shoulder-deep despite all of Killua’s protests. He clung to Gon and, to keep his feet from touching the ground, he wrapped his legs around Gon’s waist and shrieked to be brought back to land. Every wave went straight over their heads, and when they resurfaced, Gon was laughing so hard he started coughing up petals again and had to walk back to where they could stand. 

The petals were all wilted and dry, unlike the gobs of fresh petals before. Leorio said it was a good sign, and so Killua simply soothed Gon by rubbing circles on his back and watched the petals drift with the waves. 

“Sorry—Sorry about that,” Gon said, hand still over his mouth.

“Don’t apologize for it,” Killua said. Gon nodded wordlessly. Killua became abruptly aware of how hard he was trying to smile, and so he let it fade, and took to hugging Gon instead. “If anything… I should probably apologize.”

“For what?” he asked.

“I know that this is my fault, regardless of what you and everyone else says,” Killua said, and continued before Gon could argue. “I wish I could fall in love faster. If I could do that for anyone, I’d want it to be with you.”

Gon didn’t say anything. Bisky had told Killua later on that the hypnosis would become benign eventually, but not for another several months—or, perhaps, even _years_ from now. It also meant that whatever Killua said now would confuse Gon, and in his confusion, he stayed quiet and listened to what Killua had to say.

“I know I’m not in love right now, but I will be. I _really_ like you, Gon, and I don’t want you to go through something like this again,” he finished. “Okay?”

“O-Okay, yeah, sure,” Gon said, grinning as he pulled on Killua’s arm and changed the subject. “Now I told you I’d teach you how to swim and so that’s what we’re gonna do!”

“What—! No! No more swimming!” Killua cried, laughing as Gon all but dragged him into the water. Killua could have resisted, but _damn_ was it hard to hold back when everything was about the two of them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel like splitting this chapter up so ya get 9k today lol

“There’s something about your brother that unnerves me. As much as he’s helped with helping Gon… I find it difficult to trust him,” Emperor Chrollo confessed one early morning in the fields. He re-fastened the sash around his waist, his riding pants tucked into a pair of dense, leather riding boots. If it weren’t for the two of them, the field would have been empty.

But alas, there were nearly a dozen guards on the outskirts and closer, and two walking horses from the stables to them. 

Alluka glanced at the Emperor out of the corner of her eye. She wondered who, if anyone, alerted him about her early-morning escapades through the property. She tended to run in the morning, but that morning, the Emperor suggested they take a jaunt along the ocean. 

On horseback.

“Killua and I are a lot alike whether you know it or not,” she said, and grinned at him as she reached for the reigns the soldier passed to her. “But you trust me well enough it seems—letting me take you out for a ride.”

Chrollo laughed and it startled the soldier. “ _You_ , take _me_ out for a ride. I think you interpretted my invitation differently.”

Alluka hooked a foot on the stirrup and swept herself onto the saddle. She swayed, her hips following the motion of the horse stepping to the side, intercepting the Emperor’s horse as Chrollo mounted it. 

Once aboard, Chrollo coasted alongside Alluka and asked, “What makes you say that you two are similar at all?”

“We both have the same sense of humor,” she said, grinning again. “Our father couldn’t stand us when we were younger. Hence… one of the reasons he sent me into training younger than most children our age. I used to have a temper, but after my first battle I just… lost that edge.”

“Has Killua fought before?”

“In an actual war?” Alluka questioned, and Chrollo nodded. “Hm, well… not technically. He’s trained for it, and he showed a lot of promise—too much, even. As you know, our military values strategists above all, and the individual at the top of the class generally never even sees battle. So Killua was an apprentice to a general before we came here.”

“So he’s a talented leader,” he finished, and Alluka gave an uncertain nod. “What makes you so hesitant about this.”

“He’s still rash,” Alluka told him. “If… Gon’s scar is anything to go by. If he’s given time, he has incredible potential. But our father is more familiar with the frontline. He doesn’t understand strategy—that’s what his generals are for. That’s what Killua is for.”

“But you are your father’s favorite,” he said, and the telling silence that followed was filled with hesitance.

She cleared her throat. “That would be Killua. I was far from the favorite.” With that, Alluka snapped the reigns and galloped ahead.

Chrollo picked up his speed, though he lingered. He understood that the Padokea were raised differently and that he only related to Alluka’s early military development because his mother passed away. Had things gone differently, Chrollo wouldn’t have seen combat until the age of nineteen—rather than commanding at the age of nineteen. 

_But sending your daughter off at the age of fifteen?_ Chrollo thought, watching Alluka’s tightly-braided bun turn to the side as she watched the sunrise on the ocean.

They slowed at the bluff at the far edge of the property line. There, they were content with watching the sunrise glimmer on the water, turning the sky light blue.

After a while, Alluka glanced at Chrollo, wondering if she should ask if they could move on. 

He gathered as much from that one look. “You may go now,” he said. 

Alluka inclined her head before navigating her horse away, back to the stables. Chrollo watched the shoreline, where he had seen Gon take Killua on more than one occasion. This vantage point wasn’t obscured by trees as it was from his balcony.

For now, however, the shoreline was empty. It would be another few hours before Gon would be up again, anyway. 

. . .

“Gon—Gon, I have to—go to sleep,” Killua said between persistently ardent kisses outside of Gon’s bedroom door. The guards promptly opened the doors, as if to punctuate how little they wanted to watch this display. 

“ _Aw_ , Killua…” Gon whined, fingers clinging to Killua’s sleeves as he tried desperately to pull Killua into the room.

“I have practice with—” he started, only to be silenced by Gon all but shoving his tongue into Killua’s mouth with bruising force. The attack was effective in pushing down Killua’s defenses, and in a matter of seconds, Gon had him over the threshold, moaning into Gon’s mouth as he gave into yet another wave of Gon’s violent affections.

It certainly wasn’t the first time that Killua was dragged onto Gon’s bed. Killua fell back and panted for the air Gon stole from his lungs, staring up wide-eyed at the demon that took over Gon’s nimble fingers. So… perhaps they _were_ trying their best to avoid what Gon’s instincts meant, but it didn’t stop Killua from entertaining it once in a while when Gon couldn’t hold back, and Killua was pliant enough to agree to it.

Killua tipped his head back with a moan, pushing himself back onto the bed as Gon pulled his pants down. “Gon—seriously—I can’t tonight—” he insisted, but his raspy voice was desperate to make his excuses to Alluka instead along the lines of, “ _Sorry I didn’t show up to practice—Gon was just too convincing._ ”

“But—” Gon whined as Killua pushed himself up onto his elbows, and glanced behind Gon to where the guards were grudgingly keeping an eye on them. Gon looked back at them with a frown and said, “Do you really not want to…?”

His confidence shattered suddenly, and it sent Killua up onto his knees to pull Gon towards him and against his chest. “No! I do, I really, _really_ do—it’s just… maybe when your brother’s privacy ban is over? And I really do have practice with Alluka tomorrow, and I can’t—I wouldn’t… I mean…”

“I guess,” Gon sighed, nuzzling his forehead into Killua’s neck. He breathed in deeply before he tensed in Killua’s lap and whispered, “Can you tell them to stop looking?”

Killua looked back at the guards, and _yes_ , one of them _had_ taken their usual post inside the room. Not only was the privacy ban still up, but so was Emperor Chrollo’s unintentional cockblock. Killua glared at the guard and made a shooing motion.

“It’s just…” Gon started quietly as he wrapped his arms around Killua’s neck. “I just wish… I’ve wanted to do this for _weeks_ …”

“I know.” _Gods_ , did he know. They never got very far, but the span between Gon’s passionate attacks were starting to merge into a day or two apart. The frequency was flattering, if it wasn’t so startling.

“I wish we could just… have a night to ourselves,” Gon whispered, and pulled back a little to see Killua’s face properly. Gon’s long, elvish ears were flattened back in distress. “I just… don’t know how… I’ve tried talking Chrollo out of the guard situation, but he won’t budge,” he said quietly.

Killua blinked at him, and then at their current situation—the guards. _Is Gon asking me to break the Emperor’s rules?_ he asked himself, and it was promptly followed by the question, _Is it worth it?_

Yes, most definitely.

“I’ll come up with something,” Killua promised. Gon asked for confirmation, looking so incredibly hopeful that the cuteness nearly made Killua’s heart stop. “Of course. Now I actually _really_ have to go, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Gon agreed, and closed his eyes to the kiss Killua left on his lips. Killua laid Gon back against the pillows, and brushed Gon’s hair back from his forehead to press his lips to the soft spot between his tensed brows. Gon relaxed then, letting the pillows and the blankets hold him close when Killua was no longer there.

Killua secured his pants again and left the room. His sister knew just how much Gon’s guards hated Killua, but Killua couldn’t be bothered to follow Alluka’s warnings. “Don’t give them a reason to dislike you,” she had said, but the moment the guards glared at him, he glared right back, and went as far as sticking his tongue out at them. 

Killua turned the corner, thinking, _Serves them right for being rude to me_.

He collapsed on his bed the moment he walked in through the door, and succumbed to sleep so that at dawn, he awoke like the model student he was. Just because he was no longer on his father’s training regimen didn’t mean Alluka would let him start slacking. 

But… Alluka wasn’t there when he showed up for practice.

They didn’t have access to the guards’ quarters, so they made do with combat that didn’t require weapons or targets. Mostly, it involved vigorous cardio workouts, and then strength and combat training. The field of grass they usually met on was empty when Killua showed up, though, and stayed that way for another half hour before he heard Alluka’s panting breaths from behind him.

“Sorry I’m late—I got held up with something,” she said, and reached down to help Killua up to his feet.

“Yeah, _‘held up_ ’,” Killua teased, and Alluka flushed all shades of red.

“Killua, I swear to you—”

“Maybe with some ribbon—or maybe handcuffs—”

“ _Killua!_ ” Alluka cried. She tackled him and they ended up tripping and slipping down the grassy hill where Alluka tried shouting above Killua, who was yelling, “I’m surprised you ran all this way—aren’t you _sore?!_ ” All Alluka could say in response to that was, “I hate you— _so much_ right now!” because the very _last_ thing Alluka wanted to think about involved _sleeping_ with the _Emperor_.

She gagged a little, even as she shoved Killua’s face into the grass and made him eat dirt.

After their childish antics were over, they took a lap around the palace and the surrounding grounds. They passed the guards’ and servants’ wings along the way, and the followed the path that could be seen from Gon’s balcony. 

Killua looked up at the railing, and waved the moment he spotted Gon standing out there waiting for him to pass. Gon leant against the railing and waved back in return, and Killua couldn’t help but notice that each day he jogged by, it seemed like a little bit more of Gon’s skin was showing behind that silky green robe…

Killua couldn’t entirely understand why _now_ he was so hung up on Gon. He was convinced that there was something in Gon’s nymph blood that made Killua’s hormones go crazy, but no library book could confirm it, and Leorio had left long ago and had yet to respond back to Killua’s awkwardly-worded letters. He didn’t trust Gon’s original doctor as much as he did Leorio, and Gon insisted it was because Leorio was Padokean too. 

They used sticks as fake practice swords after strength training. Killua’s muscles were warm beneath his skin from the workout, and drawn taunt from the exertion of fighting off Alluka’s advances. Sweat glazed his skin, and tasted like salt against his lips when he stepped back for a break. He brushed the back of his wrist against his forehead, panting as he tossed the sword aside in favor of tying his hair back. 

“What do you want to try next?” Alluka asked, taking the hint that their crude version of fencing was over. 

Killua laughed. “What, suddenly I get a say in what we do?”

Alluka rolled his eyes and said, “ _Yes_. What do you want to do? This isn’t exactly for me, you know.”

Killua frowned at her. It would have been so easy to just… _give up_ on his training. Living in the Emperor’ palace was a _vacation_ , which meant that they didn’t _need_ to keep this up. But… on the off chance that things went south, or that Emperor Chrollo allowed their return home, Killua needed to be in top shape to continue his apprenticeship and aid in returning their home country to its former state. 

And Alluka… Alluka would no longer be on the field. From what Killua understood—and where the tension often lied between them—Alluka served her time and now had to deal with the consequences of being an heir to the Zoldyck name, title, and throne.

It didn’t make sense to him until he thought harder on the subject. The heir was the most crutial to Emperor Chrollo. If their father stepped out of line, killing the heir would be an effective threat. Their father just put Alluka on the chopping block first.

Killua thought about Gon, who _could_ have been in the same exact position as him. As they went back to training, Killua tried to picture Gon as a general, but that image just didn’t stick around long. It didn’t suit Gon, and it didn’t suit his relationship to Chrollo. 

Emperor Chrollo was adamant on spoiling Gon rotten, and making sure he had everything he could ever want. It was a surprise to just about everyone Killua knew now that Gon was as humble as he was. It would have been so easy for Gon to give in and demand _more_ , but… somehow he was content with what he had.

“Hey,” Killua started, blocking an upward swing Alluka directed towards him, “I was wondering… if you’ve seen the Emperor around at all?”

Alluka hesitated, raising an eyebrow at Killua before shaking her head, “No… not really. Why?”

“Just wondering. I need to ask him about lifting Gon’s security. Gon tried the other day and it didn’t go so well,” he explained. “I’m hoping to maybe… get on his good side? I don’t know. It’s unlikely but it’s the only thing I can think of right now…”

“Why do you need to lift the security?” she asked, and Killua gave her a flat look and went in to jab Alluka’s side. Alluka dodged him, but ended up with a hit to her opposite arm.

Killua twisted his fencing stick and switched hands with a shrug. “Gon is… _really_ starting to get upset by it. Like, the whole jealousy-thing is still going on and it’s almost like he can’t _relax_ whenever we’re together because the guards are always on top of us. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. What about you, though?’

“What do you mean?”

Alluka leant back and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. She ran it back along her braids and gestured vaguely with her hands as she explained, “I mean, I know this whole security thing is annoying to _Gon_ , but… they _are_ supervising you guys. And I just want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with Gon before you get rid of that barrier.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Killua said, scowling. “Of course I’m comfortable with Gon!”

Alluka lifted her hands in surrender, and Killua turned away, clenching his teeth together, his fists tightening around his fencing stick. 

“What makes you think that I _wouldn’t_?” he asked, turning slightly to squint at Alluka.

“I mean, from everything Leorio told me about nymphs, it sounds like Gon could be a bit impudent to his partners. I just want to make sure he isn’t pressuring you into anything you aren’t ready for,” Alluka explained, and donned an innocent smile so that glaring made Killua feel guilty. Alluka was just trying to look out for him.

“Gon isn’t like most nymphs,” Killua insisted. “We’re on the same page. You don’t have to worry about me, Alluka. Besides, I’m sure I can handle myself around him. I have so far.”

Alluka watched Killua as he kicked at the grass and spun his stick around to the side, slicing it through the air like a whip. “You’ve been with Gon for a month, Killua. That isn’t enough time to— _Ey!_ ” 

Killua swung his stick towards Alluka’s neck, and when Alluka was taken off guard, Killua poked at it. 

Killua backed away laughing, and Alluka grumbled to herself about how much of a mistake it was to spend the morning out on the farthest bluff on the property. 

That didn’t exactly stop her the next time the Emperor sent a servant to her, requesting that she meet him in her room that night. Hearing the location had Alluka’s nerves in a tizzy. Perhaps there _was_ some truth to Killua’s teasing? 

She put a hand to her forehead and thought to herself, _Perhaps_ I _should be more concerned about crossing boundaries_. She knew it was dangerous to befriend the Emperor, but she didn’t mind the company or the banter—at least, not the way she thought she would. 

When Alluka entered the Emperor’s quarters, she was met with a wide open living space and a table lit by candle light. Or rather, a chess table lit by candle light.

Alluka hesitated at the entrance, her hands clasped behind her. 

The Emperor gestured vaguely across the table and said, “I take it you play.”

“I do, your Majesty.”

He pulled a knee up, his foot on the edge of the floor pillow. “Then why do you hesitate?”

Alluka narrowed her eyes at him. “Inviting me to your _bed chambers_ is a bit presumptuous, wouldn’t you say?”

Chrollo lifted a playing piece from the board and inspected the marble. “I’d say anything to do with the bed chambers is a power play—chess included.”

“Romantic of you,” she remarked numbly, and she could already sense the horror on the guards’ faces behind her. 

Chrollo snickered under the candle light and looked at Alluka then. “Take a seat,” he ordered, pointing to the spot across from him. He started the game off by placing the piece in his hand. 

They played two games in relative silence. Alluka didn’t mind the quiet—it made thinking more effective for her plays. After the second game ended, however, Chrollo broke the silence. 

“Is there something on your mind?”

There was, and she wondered if it would be detrimental to mention it. The longer she stayed quiet, however, the harsher Chrollo’s stare became. 

“This is,” Alluka sighed, rubbing a hand to her chin. “I was just… thinking about something Killua told me.” Just like any other time Gon’s current love interest became a topic, Chrollo’s interest piqued. “Gon came to him asking about removing the guard supervision. I think he plans on talking to you about it.”

“Gon went to him about this?” he questioned, frowning at her.

“From what Killua said, yes, that seems to be the case. It sounded like Gon is starting to get paranoid from… you know, from his… instincts.” 

Chrollo leant back against the floor and turned away, drawing his eyebrows together as he thought about this. 

Alluka swallowed hard. She looked at the playing piece in her hand and said, “I didn’t—I don’t meant to intrude on the matter, your Majesty. It’s just been on my mind since Killua told me.”

“When did he tell you this?” he demanded, but Alluka barely opened her mouth before Chrollo was pushing himself off the floor and fetching his coat. The fabric floated off the ground as he stormed for the doors, and left Alluka sitting on the Emperor’s floor, beside herself with confusion.

Chrollo’s chambers weren’t all that far from Gon’s, but the walk was long enough for him to pass several servants who leapt in surprise at seeing their Emperor up and about at such an hour. His guards were just as startled, and the few that followed him had to set out at a jog to keep up. 

That night, though, happened to be several days after Killua’s talk with Alluka, and after Alluka unknowingly, but successfully, convinced Killua that Chrollo would see no reason on this matter. He was too adamant on keeping Gon on a tight leash. Both he and Alluka were convinced that Killua wasn’t seriously considering spending the rest of his life with Gon. 

After that practice, Gon was already waiting for him at the palace doors, and clung to Killua’s arm for the remainder of the day. The day after was much the same, except the moment they saw Knuckle and Kurapika in the halls, Gon was practically clawing up into Killua’s arms like a cat, hissing at them to go away. 

As much as Killua loved the affection, he knew that this wasn’t the Gon he fell for a month ago. He was convinced that Gon didn’t _want_ to be this way, especially after the situation with Knuckle and Kurapika. They were Gon’s best friends, and it seemed like Gon’s love for Killua was tearing them apart.

“I can’t stay the night tonight,” Killua told Gon at the far end of the corridor that would lead to Gon’s bedroom door. If they got any closer, Gon would destroy any and all of Killua’s self-control.

Gon’s expression collapsed, and Killua could see that he was on the brink of tears. Killua pulled him in for a hug, and Gon tried to pull away out of frustration, but Killua held on tight and whispered, “Tomorrow night, okay? I’ll come get you.”

Gon’s breathing hitched, and he held on tight to Killua’s shirt. “Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

So when Chrollo came storming down Gon’s corridor and pushed through Gon’s bedroom door, he approached an empty bed. Killua and Gon were already gone through the window—they could be anywhere. 

Chrollo whirled on the guards, shouting, “Where is he?!” but all the guards were just as surprised as he was. 

They all shook their heads, and their incompetence had Chrollo’s face turning red, fists clenched as he yelled, “ _FIND HIM!_ ”

While all the guards scattered and word spread like wildfire, Killua took Gon by the hand up the stairs of the far wing. The stairwell curved along the pillar of marble bricks, and the moonlight reflected in shimmery spirals beneath their feet with each step. All was quiet at this time of night, and any sleepiness they might have felt was banished by the adrenaline of breaking the rules. 

Leaving through the window was only part of the struggle—it involved a lot of hesitance on Gon’s part, but eventually he trusted Killua to catch him. It was a messy landing, and they might have fallen, but all their limbs were intact considering they were now approaching the greenhouse doors.

“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Killua said as he pulled the fabric off of Gon’s head. Gon blinked his blue eyes open, and released a shaky breath of excitement as he realized just where, exactly, they were going. 

“After I dropped you off last night, I asked Knuckle if he knew of any good hiding spots,” he said, voice quiet as they walked between the tables of plants, and the deep inlets in the ground where entire trees were planted. 

“The observatory?” Gon asked, and laughed when Killua nodded. “No kidding! I love the observatory. You can see everything from up there.”

“He gave a few other suggestions… but… this one seemed like the best spot,” he confessed, and guided the way to the makeshift wooden ladder that would take them up to the observatory. Gon glanced up at the opening, and realized that beyond the moonlight, there was a faint orange glow flickering up there. It wasn’t until Killua guided him up that he was able to see the full extent of Killua’s planning. 

The observatory was small to begin with, and with the telescope packed away in its heavy wooden box, Killua had made room for a cushioned bed made solely of down feather comforters stolen from various rooms in the palace. A tablecloth was tossed over the telescope case, and on top of it sat a bottle of wine along with a pair of glasses and one gentle candle that cast a glow across the entire room. 

Gon slowly emerged from the ladder, and pushed himself onto the blankets as Killua reached down and pulled the ladder up section-by-section. As he did so, he talked absently about how difficult it was to sneak everything up here without the gardeners looking. “I was surprised no one came up here when I was setting everything up but—”

He looked over at Gon then, and stopped at the sight of moonlit tears dripping from Gon’s eyelashes. “You… did this all for me?” he asked, voice shaking as Killua crawled over and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. 

“Of course. Gon, I _really_ , really like you,” Killua insisted, shaking his head as he laughed, “and I think it’s _really_ kind of shitty of your brother to decide how I feel.”

Gon laughed with him, nuzzling their foreheads together. Killua couldn’t be sure how long they spent staring into each others’ eyes, but eventually, they were kissing, and they were falling back against the cloud of blankets Killua made under the moonlight. 

After the calm passed, Gon made hasty work of pulling their clothes free around the same time Chrollo hunted Kurapika down. He knew Kurapika was close to Gon—that was one of the many things Chrollo employed him for—so Kurapika was the first answer to the question, “Who would know where Gon is?”

Unfortunately, Kurapika was just as surprised to hear that Gon was missing as everyone else was. 

“Have you… checked on Killua?” he offered, and Chrollo confirmed that he had sent a guard there to check on him. He was missing, too. “Knuckle?”

“No, I—” he started, and realized that _yes_ , Knuckle was another one of Gon’s close friends. If Gon had planned anything behind his brother’s back, he might have trusted Knuckle with the information. “Gods, you’re right. Thank you, Kurapika,” he cried, turned to send one of his guards off to bring Knuckle to him. 

The moment his back was turned, Kurapika released a nervous, shaky sigh. Why were all of his friends such idiots? Did they _want_ to get themselves killed?

Kurapika chased after the guard Chrollo sent, and made hasty excuses, saying that he’d make sure that Knuckle was taken care of, as he _was_ a friend of Gon’s. The last thing Chrollo would want was to ruin his relationship with Gon by having the guards do something rash, like _break Knuckle’s arm_ (It had happened once before, and Kurapika was convinced that some days Knuckle felt more like a hostage than an actual friend because of that experience). 

The moment the guard broke into Knuckle’s room, Kurapika was butting in and shushing Knuckle from screaming in alarm. “Don’t worry! It’s just me.”

“ _Kurapika!_ I’m not _decent!_ ” Knuckle shrieked, but the guard was flinging the blankets off anyways and revealing the fact that Knuckle was in nothing but his underwear. “ _Ladies are present!_ ” he hissed at the guard, and kicked viciously when the guard tried to drag him out of the bed. 

Kurapika put his hands on his hips and said, “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“The Emperor asked for you,” the guard said, and Knuckle turned to Kurapika’s guilty expression. “Get dressed,” he demanded, shoving the nearest clothing item at Knuckle to put on.

Knuckle stared at the man with wide eyes before hurriedly dressing himself and chasing after the guard to keep up the pace. 

Kurapika ran after him, and fell in step with him as Knuckle demanded what was going on. Kurapika searched around the pockets of his robe and produced a trusty notepad. A lead pencil was stuck in the binding of it, and so he wrote down the dilemma.

_“Do you know where they could be? The Emperor is going to ask you_ ,” he wrote at the end, and pointed to it urgently so Knuckle could see what the matter was. 

Knuckle glanced at the guard, who was walking ahead of them, eyes forward. Knuckle knew exactly what the answers were, and if it meant saving Gon and Killua from certain grounding… then he’d have to help Kurapika find them first. 

He wrote down a short list of the spots he gave Killua. Kurapika took the pad of paper back and read through it before nodding. “Thank you,” he mouthed to Knuckle, and he silently wished Kurapika luck as his friend ran off to check the first of the five spots Knuckle gave him.

Kurapika ran from one end of the palace to the other, passing guards along the way that were barging into each and every room in search of Killua and Gon. He grimaced at the sound of startled residents who had been sleeping in their beds before the guards broke in. 

He hoped that none of the guards reached the spots Knuckle gave him yet—he was familiar with them because he used to find Knuckle and Gon hiding away in them whenever they decided to give Chrollo mini heart attacks from running off without their guards. Thankfully, though, all of them turned up empty the higher he got in the palace.

The last on the list was the observatory. 

_Please be here_ , he begged, shoving through the greenhouse doors and making his way through the maze of tables and separate, misty rooms. 

He looked up through the glass ceiling at the small observatory dome. At this time of night, it would be all pitch black, but now… there was a faint glow of a candle up there. He couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief at the sight, reassured that the idiots were up there.

By the time Kurapika approached the spot where the ladder used to be, Gonwas content and curled up beside Killua after everything—and after finishing a glass of wine. 

Gon had never felt exhaustion like he did now, where it clung to every part of his being and weighing him down, like he was sinking into a pool of precious dreams and memories. Every night he spent without Killua was riddled with hallucinations of him, keeping him awake with mindless conversations that Gon would forget the moment he found the real Killua the next morning. Every night was spent in anticipation, waiting to see Killua again, wondering what Killua was doing, hoping that tomorrow would be the day Killua would stay the night with him _at last_. 

Killua finished off his glass and set Gon’s aside with his own. Gon stirred awake and smiled sleepily up at Killua. 

“Hey,” Killua said, laughing quietly under his breath as Gon mumbled his greetings back. “Tired?” 

Gon nodded, and hesitated to yawn before saying, “I haven’t been sleeping much at all, really.”

“Really? Did you get medicine for it?” Killua asked, and Gon shook his head. “Why?”

“Because you were always there,” he said quietly, closing his eyes against Killua’s bare chest. Killua was used to Gon talking about his imaginary episodes, but… Gon rarely ever talked about his mind’s version of Killua. At least, not to Killua himself. 

He remembered what Leorio said about Gon’s instincts “backfiring.”

“Did I stop you from getting sleep medicine?” he asked, and Gon shook his head. “What was I doing there?”

“We would just… talk all night and I don’t really know what of, but… then I would blink and you would be gone and it’d be morning again,” Gon said. “I like talking to you…”

Killua was quiet for a moment as he held Gon close. He kissed Gon’s hair and said, “I like talking to you too.”

Just as he was about to settle in for an hour or two of sleep, he heard footsteps faintly down below. He tensed, waiting for them to pass, but they stopped immediately beside the ladder opening.

A harsh, “ _Psst!_ ” was hissed up at them, and Killua sighed in relief when he realized that it was just Kurapika. He quietly removed Gon’s arms from around him and dressed before walking over to see what Kurapika wanted, and how the hell she found them.

“Hey assholes—the entire palace is looking for you guys!” he hissed.

Killua’s eyes went wide, and looked over at where Gon was fast asleep on the blankets that covered his modesty. “How do you know?” he asked, voice hushed.

“Chrollo went to check on Gon and he wasn’t there— _you_ aren’t where you’re supposed to be, so put two-and-two together… Viola!” Kurapika said, gesturing madly at Killua, and the fact that Gon was likely out of sight. “Knuckle told me where you guys might be, but he was on his way to Chrollo so the guards’ll be looking here in no time.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Killua hissed, and quickly backtracked to say, “Thank you for the warning, Kurapika—I’ve got it taken care of.”

“You better,” he muttered, walking off with his arms crossed. 

Killua packed away the wine and glasses, bundled up in the table cloth. He nudged Gon awake and helped him dress so that they could pack up all the blankets and shove them down the ladder once it was back in place. When they both hopped down to the ground, Killua caught Gon and steadied him with a smile. Gon tipped into him tiredly, and quietly kissed Killua’s jawline.

“How are you feeling?” Killua asked in a whisper. Gon only smiled. “Good?”

“ _Perfect_ ,” Gon corrected, ending in a yawn. “I’m so _tired_ , though…”

“Let’s get you back to your room,” Killua said, bundling the blankets into his arms as Gon took the wine bag. 

Together, they headed for the far back exit, and disappeared outside as soon as they found the closest door to the outside gardens. They hid the blankets and the wine behind a collection of bushes, and hid there together until the lantern light from the guards passed. They ran to the spot beneath Gon’s balcony, and just as Gon was about to ask how the hell they were supposed to get up there, Killua was already jumping up onto the nearest windowsill, and climbing up the framing. He leapt up to the next floor, swinging his leg up onto the sill before lunging for Gon’s railing.

Gon’s jaw was on the ground when Killua stuck the landing, hidden behind the balcony curtains. “Do you have any rope?” Killua asked as quietly as he could.

“I—um, I don’t… know?” Gon stammered, still struck by how fluidly Killua scaled the wall. “Use one of the curtains!”

Killua checked to see if the room was clear, and it seemed like all of the guards were elsewhere, looking for Gon. The doors were all open, though, so Killua made quick work of tearing one of the curtains off of the pole. He knotted the end so that Gon could stand on it while Killua did all the heavy work of reeling him up.

Gon grabbed for the railing and Killua’s arms as he wrapped them around Gon, securing him tight to safety. Gon went limp in Killua’s arms as he allowed himself to be hefted over the railing. “Careful—watch your feet,” Killua warned, and so he took Gon underneath the knees, and around the back, and carried him bridal-style off the balcony. 

Gon giggled as he Killua spun him around before placing him on the bed where he awoke with vigor earlier that night to meet Killua at the balcony. Killua tucked the blankets up, and felt his chest seize up with such delight when Gon said, cheeks pink, “Goodnight—I love you.”

Killua kissed him one last time and said, “Get some sleep— _real_ sleep this time.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let me convince you otherwise.”

“O _kay_ , I won’t let you.”

“Good. Goodnight, Gon,” Killua said, grinning ear-to-ear as he jogged back to the railing and vaulted himself over it. 

. . .

Early, _early_ that morning, one of the guards found Gon fast asleep in his bed, and so the search was called off. Killua, however, was roused from his sleep by the angrily disappointed face of his sister. Killua feigned innocence, though, and continued to do so even when he accompanied her to the throne room where Emperor Chrollo sat, glaring at everyone who entered. 

Chrollo drummed his sharp nails on the arm of his chair, and stared Killua down as he walked the distance from the door to the first stair to his throne.

Kurapika was standing beside him, arms clasped behind his back. He was giving Killua another one of his warning glares. _As if I’d rat him out_ , Killua thought to himself, and turned his chin up as Emperor Chrollo spoke.

“Are you aware that last night, Gon went missing?” he asked.

Killua blinked his wide, owlish eyes and shook his head. “Not at all—When Alluka told me I had… I heard nothing of it before. But it seems he’s back though, right?”

He watched the Emperor’s jaw tense, and hoped to the gods that he wouldn’t see through Killua’s flimsy facade. The timing was almost too perfect the previous night—Killua nearly got caught by the guards running to his room. The Emperor had several guards waiting outside of his room for him, and so he took a different route. He stuck to the garden Kurapika toured with Killua and Alluka when they first came. It felt like the entire palace staff was awake now, and it took ages of slinking about for him to find a spot on one of the benches, and sit with a calm, neutral expression until one of the servants came up to him and asked what he was doing.

“I haven’t been sleeping great, and so I take late night walks to tire myself out,” he lied, merging a touch of Gon’s confession with it. Unlike Gon, Killua had been sleeping great. The bed he had here was heavenly compared to the one he was stuck to back in his home country.

“I am well aware of that—I’ve already spoken to the servant who found you,” Emperor Chrollo all but hissed. His hands clenched on the armrests as he pushed himself up, staring Killua down from the apex of the throne room floor. “You expect me to—”

His attention lifted to the door as it opens, and hurried steps race across the marble to where Killua and Alluka stood. Killua looked back, and was alarmed to find Gon there, standing no more than a few feet from them. 

“What’s going on here?” Gon demanded. “I woke up and my guards informed me that you all thought I went _missing?_ ”

“That _is_ what happened,” Chrollo said, marching down the steps. Killua took a subconscious step back, until he was standing between Gon and Alluka. “Where were you? I came to your room and you were _gone_.”

“I was in the _bathroom_ ,” Gon said, enunciating it slowly as if the concept was too difficult for Chrollo to grasp. He lifted an eyebrow at his brother, who narrowed his eyes. “When I came out no one was around and I went to sleep. End of story.”

Chrollo’s eyes were cold as the steely color they gave off. He hissed in a sharp undertone, “Let’s assume that you’re telling me the truth. Then what’s this I hear about asking for the guards’ supervision to be lifted?”

Gon groaned, rolling his eyes to where Killua tensed and looked at Alluka, who, like the good soldier she was, remained as impassive as stone. 

“I know I asked you about it before but it doesn’t _matter_ anymore. I don’t care,” Gon said. 

Killua turned to him then in surprise, and it didn’t exactly take a leap and a jump to come to the conclusion that their worries were set aside for the moment. If Gon was truly feeling the need to protect Killua from the guards’ wandering eyes, then he’d be fighting Chrollo on the matter right now. 

Killua glanced at Chrollo, whose anger was replaced with astonishment. “You… don’t mind the guards then?” he asked. Chrolloglimpsed over at Killua, who tried his best to look innocent, but most likely failed.

“Well, not any _more—_ ”

“What about your… paranoia?” he asked.

Gon turned pink, hands balled up at his sides. The look of betrayal on his face had Killua’s gut twisting in guilt. “Who _told you_ about that?! You know I don’t like talking about it!” he whined.

“I’d like to know if you’re feeling self-conscious about—” Chrollo started, and stopped at the look Gon gave him. He pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “When I spoke to Knuckle earlier, he… may have mentioned the fact that you’ve been acting more or less like a spoilt _child_ who doesn’t want to share.”

“So what if I don’t want to share Killua?” Gon cried, voice squeaking. 

His hand went subconsciously to Killua’s, and Killua took it and gave it a tight, reassuring squeeze. Gon came back to himself in the next moment with a sigh, stepping up to his brother and releasing Killua in the process. 

“I admit… I was being _unreasonable_ , but I’m okay now. And I know the guards are just there for my safety and… I shouldn’t have been acting like… a _spoilt child,_ ” he all but spat the words at Chrollo, furious about being called out like this.

Chrollo didn’t seem phased, though, and merely said, “So you’re okay that I have the guards with you for one more week?” 

Gon looked up from the floor, eyes wide. “What? I mean, yeah, yes, that’s fine,” he stammered, flustered at the thought. Just one more week of semi-captivity. He could stand that. 

“You gave me quite a scare, Gon,” he said sternly, glaring at his little brother as Gon nodded and promised not to worry him again. Chrollo lifted his arms up, and Gon leant into them, letting Chrollo envelope him into a hug. 

As they reconciled, Killua turned to Alluka with his arms crossed. He lifted an accusatory eyebrow, and Alluka pursed her lips, looking away from Killua’s barely-concealed fury. Killua mouthed, “You _told him?_ ” once Alluka glanced at him again. Alluka responded with an indifferent shrug.

Chrollo released Gon. He was barely out of arm’s reach when Chrollo pegged Killua with another withering stare.

“If I find that you’ve lied to me in any way, I will not hesitate,” he hissed at him. He stopped Gon’s attempt to argue with a swift, “No matter the consequences.”

He turned and walked towards the back of the throne room. Kurapika followed after him with wide, shocked eyes. Gon, Killua, and Alluka stared after him before Gon forcefully took Killua by the hand and dragged him off. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered under his breath. Killua stumbled after him, and didn’t bother looking back at his sister as she stood in the growing chasm between Killua and Emperor Chrollo.

Every part of this contributed to the increasing doubt growing deep within Alluka’s chest. Nothing about her life had ever been simple, and now…

And now Gon was seeing butterflies. He was breathing in the ocean air and seeing sunlight in the dark. He saw the glow on Knuckle’s cheeks like glitter and sparkles, like freckles of starlight on his tanned skin. He hugged the warmth of his best friend as he cried, “I’m sorry I abandoned you! I was so mean!” 

His tears dripped onto Knuckle’s shoulder, and they rooted there and sprouted into leaves that tickled Knuckle’s ears as he said, “It’s okay, I figured something was up. I’m glad you’re back to normal, though.”

Gon laughed and sniffed, pushing away the tears so he could smile and look Knuckle in the eyes. “I guess I should apologize for the fact that you had to deal with Chrollo,” Gon said quietly, guiltily.

Knuckle whistled low and said, “Yeah, that was… that wasn’t fun. But you know what? Whatever happened was for the best, because you’re you again and that’s all that matters. Did you apologize to Kurapika yet?”

Gon turned away groaning, and would have continued sulking about how much he _didn’t_ want to apologize more and more to Kurapika, but he was suddenly distracted by the fact that Killua looked just as beautiful as he did the previous night in the observatory. His milky white skin shimmered with stardust, and created a halo that the butterflies flocked to. He was off wandering the corridor that faced the ocean breeze, and the looked back just as Gon thought it impolite for him to keep staring. 

He turned away, his sharp ears turning red.

“I’ll apologize to Kurapika later…” Gon murmured, and glanced back at Knuckle with a giddy grin. “Can we hang out sometime tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, clutching his hands together in anticipation. 

And of course Knuckle didn’t let him down. They agreed to a picnic the following afternoon—just the two of them. Shortly after, Knuckle had to leave to visit his parents, and so Gon followed him off of the stone ledge they sat on. He waved Knuckle off with a childish, “Goodbye! Love you!” which Knuckle responded with by saluting him and laughing, “Love you too, buddy!” 

Gon threw his head back laughing, and turned to find Killua, but realized promptly that Killua was nowhere in sight.

Gon was used to the brief moment of panic when he was out of Killua’s sight. It was just habit now, especially after realizing that every moment he spent without Killua, his mind was occupied by hallucinations of him. But… after a deep breath, Gon was relieved to find that he was alone, and that only one Killua existed in the world, and no other. 

He started down the corridor, following the fluttering purple wings of the butterflies as they glistened in the sunlight, and ducked behind the pillars and around the ivy vines that sprouted out the windows, and began to spiral around the columns. 

Gon turned his eyes up to where the leaves were crawling over his head, and following him in a flourish of violet morning glory blossoms. He realized quickly that they were leading the way, and they were directing him towards one of the stone ledges between the columns where Killua was sitting along the edge, feet dangling just above the garden bushes. 

Gon reached over and wrapped his arms around Killua’s torso. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, kissing the soft curve of Killua’s neck.

“I’m just sitting here,” Killua laughed. “What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing—you just look perfect all of the time,” Gon said, and leant back so that he could maneuver up onto the ledge beside him. Killua tucked his chin against his shoulder, watching Gon through half-lidded eyes.

“Yeah, well, all of the time it feels like you deserve my title more than I do,” he said at last, and grinned cheekily as Gon tipped his head in confusion. “Most Beautiful Man Alive…” Killua finished, and laughed when Gon nudged him, ears turning pink all over again.

They leant against one another and watched the ocean down below, and where it merged with the sky far off on the nonexistent horizon. Killua put his arm around Gon and sighed, saying, “I want to go to the ocean again. I want to collect sea shells and sea glass.”

“Then we’ll go to the ocean and collect sea shells and sea glass.”

“Yes… but I don’t want to do it here,” Killua confessed. He pressed his cheek to Gon’s hair and frowned. “I know it’s ridiculous and… your brother treats us well considering Alluka and I are both hostages for my father’s loyalty or whatever… but sometimes I get stir crazy being in the same place all the time.”

Gon murmured his agreement. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out to the city. It wasn’t easy for him to walk around in public, and there was no way Chrollo would allow it. Despite how successful his reign had been, there were still enemies everywhere, around every corner. As children, Hazama instilled this fear in Chrollo, who instilled it in Gon, and so he was adamant that Gon never leave, and he was content to stay safe on the palace grounds.

“Your ocean is so beautiful… I wonder what other shores look like,” Killua confessed.

“You really think it’s beautiful?” Gon asked, and somehow the question felt personal to him. Perhaps it was the childish theory he and his sbrother concocted that made him associate his ocean to his heritage.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Killua said, and promptly backtracked. “Well, I mean, I’m not sure how much my opinion counts because this is the first ocean I have ever seen…”

Gon fell quiet, his thoughts pulling memories to the forefront. Chrollo used to take him on trips overseas to visit the far off lands that swore their allegiance to him. At least, Chrollo used to, until the horrific assassination attempt that led him to ban Gon from ever traveling with him again. “I could never risk your life over foolish extremists,” he would tell Gon whenever he begged and whined to come with him.

But before anything happened, Gon was well-traveled and familiar with every coast that Chrollo conquered bordering their ocean. He could see the rocky white shorelines now, with monstrous cliffs and archways across the ocean… He could see Killua standing in the teal water, white hair slicked back and damp from swimming…

“You would love the Kakin coast,” he concluded. “All of the sand is pure white, and the cliffs are _beautiful_.”

“You’ve been to Kakin?” Killua asked, and so Gon explained the trip he once took across the sea, years after Kakin was sheltered by Chrollo’s rule. Chrollo was there for political business with Hazama, and so Gon was left to his own devices, escorted by one of the ambassador’s sons… who… Well, Gon left those details out of the story he shared with Killua. Yet another instance where Gon’s nymphal instincts got in the way of rational thought.

“I’d love to go to Kakin with you. You could be my tour guide,” Killua said, settling back against stone pillar so that Gon could lean back against his chest, resting between Killua’s legs.

Gon laughed nervously, realizing that he would make an _awful_ tour guide considering he couldn’t remember a lick of where they’d been or how they’d gotten there when he was back in Kakin. He was too busy falling head-over-heels for his _own_ tour guide.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to travel together?” Killua asked, the sunlight dappling through the imaginary leaves over their heads. A flower bloomed beside Killua’s head as Gon tipped his head back against Killua’s shoulder. “Would your brother allow that?”

“I don’t think so,” Gon confessed. “I wish we could, though.”

Killua smiled and leant to either side to look up and down the corridor. Afterwards, he whispered, “What do you think the chances are that we could sneak out and travel the globe without Chrollo noticing?”

Gon shouted in surprise and dissolved into giggles, and couldn’t respond for a solid minute before gasping out, “ _What?_ We couldn’t—!”

“ _Think about it!_ I bet we could—we’d just have to… really plan it out,” Killua said, and lifted a hand up to his mouth to nibble on his thumbnail. The sunlight shimmered on his skin like light reflecting on water. “I mean, would you want to? Hypothetically speaking?”

“Um… _Yeah_ , is that even a _question?_ ” Gon laughed. “But my brother would lose his _mind_ if I went missing again. You remember how he was when we… you know…”

“Well, it wouldn’t be _now_ , it’s just… be far in the future,” Killua said. “I’d take the risk.”

“I wouldn’t want to take the risk _for_ you. In case you forgot, Chrollo’s threatened to hang you a handful of times and I wouldn’t put it past him to do so if we up and left like that,” Gon said, and attempted to count the number of threats his brother made on his fingers. 

“Tell you what—I’ll think on it, and get back to you, okay? Make a list of places you want to go to.”

“Okay, but it’ll be a list of places I want _you_ to see. Because that’s more important, you uncultured child,” Gon said, and took Killua’s hand from where he had it pressed to his teeth. Gon kissed it and laid it over his heart. 

“Okay, that sounds good to me.”

So the following day, when Knuckle and Gon went off on their picnic, Killua found himself in the library staring at the maps of the world. For now, it was just a fantasy, but someday he hoped it wouldn’t have to be anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

Chaos broke out a short while after everything was assumed to be settled.

Killua and Gon were without vigorous supervision, and they spent most days reading in the library together when they weren’t up and about with Knuckle, or out on the beach. Killua’s milky white skin was tan and pink now from his time in and out of the sun, and freckles started to dot his shoulders from the sun exposure. Gon liked to kiss the new ones hello, and welcome, because they would be seeing each other just about every night when Killua slept beside Gon with his bare shoulder peaking out from underneath the comforter. 

Alluka, on the other hand, was stuck. She was stuck in the routine she set for herself as it merged with Chrollo’s. 

She was raised to listen dutifully and without question to her superiors and no one below her. Truthfully, it was a bit of a relief to be away from her superior officers—and her father—and it certainly wasn’t like Alluka disliked politics. She loved the prospect of one day ruling in her father’s place, but…

She could see why that wouldn’t be possible. She could see why her father instated her as the heir. It was a temporary position. Alluka wasn’t sure why she thought, at some point, that she and her father saw eye-to-eye.

Chrollo, on the other hand, _did_ see eye-to-eye with her, but his methods were just as coarse as they were refined. His life was built on being taught the past mistakes of previous conquerers so that he could learn from them and be the great, established ruler he was now. He was just and fair, but rigid with everyone he dealt with including himself. 

Alluka would eventually see the worst of his perilous efforts to keep himself in check. 

There came a day that Chrollo broke his routine for the sake of an emergency trip elsewhere with Hazama. Alluka was later informed, and flattered, by Kurapika relaying the news that Chrollo had asked for Alluka’s company on the trip. She had proven her intellect and worth over countless games of chess, countless hours on the archery fields, and countless miles on horseback. 

Hazama, however, was right in keeping Alluka behind. Should word spread that Chrollo was seeking counsel from the daughter of a potential enemy, her father might assume Alluka had become indispensible. It might prompt her father to step out of line, assuming that Chrollo would risk killing her as punishment.

The fact that Chrollo agreed with Hazama reassured her that she was, in fact, a little more indispensable than when she first came to Nakula. 

Killua walked with Alluka the first day Chrollo left, at the exact time Chrollo took his late weekday stroll through the gardens. Killua had been so occupied with Gon that it felt strange to be with him outside of their morning training.

“Gon tells me you two are close,” Killua said.

“Why, has the Emperor mentioned anything to him?” she asked, genuinely curious. In a way, Chrollo was always on _her_ mind. She had never picked the brain of an emperor, let alone the one who bested her father.

“I imagine it was something like that. But you know Gon—he tends to exaggerate things sometimes,” he said with a laugh and a wistful sigh. “He misses Chrollo right now. It’s why Gon keeps talking about him.”

“Really? He’s barely been gone half a day.”

“I know. He’s all worked up though. Honestly, at this rate? He might worry himself sick.”

And, of course, Gon _did_ worry himself sick. He came down with a fever later that night, and with the doctor in charge of his state, the man nearly leapt out of his skin when one of the servants asked if they should send a telegram to the Emperor.

“Good gods, are you _mad?_ He’d come back without hesitation, and he can’t do that with the state of things in Yorbia,” the doctor said urgently.

“And who are you to decide what he should and shouldn’t do?” Knuckle demanded from off on the side, a good distance away from where Gon was lying pallid and glistening with sweat on the bed. Anything that had to do with colds worried Knuckle far too much for comfort. He had a cousin die from the common cold, and ever since then, sniffles sent him running. 

“If Gon is ill because his brother isn’t here, we should bring him back!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Killua huffed, sitting beside Gon to hold the cold pack to his forehead. “It’s just a fever. We can’t worry the Emperor over every little thing.”

“ _This_ isn’t _little_ ,” Knuckle squeaked.

“I have this under control,” the doctor reassured him. “Just _please_ , do _not_ send for the Emperor. He was needed urgently to quell the rebellion, and can _not_ be disturbed. Is that understood?”

The servant nodded fervently, and Knuckle looked away with a huff of his reluctant agreement. Killua sighed from the bedside and looked down at Gon, who was panting hard and lifting his eyelids open to weakly blink at Killua. “Is… Chrollo here? Is he okay?” he asked softly, voice hoarse. It reminded Killua of the fifth hour of listening to Gon puke dragon’s tongue. 

Killua swallowed hard and shook his head. “He’s not here, but he’s okay. He’s just gone to Yorbia.”

“How… long’s it been?” he asked, tears the size of gumdrops dripping from his cheeks when Killua simply shrugged, not wanting to admit that it had just barely been a day. 

“This happens every now and then when Chrollo leaves,” the doctor reassured Killua with a tired sigh. He twisted a towel between his hands as he watched Killua wrap Gon up in his arms and sit with him on the bed. “It’s nothing you can contract. Truthfully… it happens to both halfblooded nymphs and pure ones. I mostly see it in pure nymphs after they’ve… killed their spouses on accident.”

“Goodie,” Killua said sharply, scowling at the doctor from over Gon’s shoulder. He wished Leorio was here instead.

Alluka came to visit Killua and Gon the following day after not having seen a wink of either of them. Killua stayed quarantined with Gon, and ate his meals there, and so Alluka came in the late evening after her own meal to say goodnight. Killua was alerted to her entry by one of the guards opening the door and letting Alluka in.

“Alluka?” Killua said, sitting up a little, but Gon was clinging to him as if his hands were suctioned to Killua’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at dinner… or lunch, so I figured I’d check on you,” he confessed, eyeing the way Gon moaned and groaned when Killua tried to stand. 

“I’ll just be on the other side of the room,” Killua promised Gon, kissing his damp hair and laying him down. He plucked Gon’s fingers off of his wrists and brushed his hands on his trousers as he walked towards Alluka.

Alluka raised an eyebrow at Killua, and Killua merely gave her a droll stare. “He really can’t keep himself together, can he?” Alluka whispered.

“Hush up, he can probably hear you,” Killua hissed under his breath. “In case you forgot, his mother was elvish.”

“Still, you don’t see me bawling my eyes out when I’ve been seeing His Majesty more often than _he_ does these days,” Alluka huffed, crossing her arms. When she looked back at Killua, Killua was glaring all over again. “Oh, what is it?”

“You’re moody. You may not cry, but you’re still an _asshole_ when you’re sad,” Killua said.

They both grimaced then because distantly, they could hear Gon moaning, “ _Killuaaa… come baaack_ …”

Killua turned pink and refused to look at Alluka, because he _knew_ he’d find a smug grin on his sister’s face. “You can’t _blame_ him. He feels things differently than we do.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Killua snapped. “And I’m not being mean when I say that he’s sensitive. There’s nothing wrong with being sensitive to emotions.”

“Nothing wrong with it,” Alluka scoffed, and jumped when Killua slapped her arm. “All I’m saying! is that he’s _dramatic_ , is all.”

“Thanks, _Captain Obvious_ ,” Killua huffed. “Now I really have to get going. We’re in the middle of the sequel to _Fair Weathered Affairs_.”

“What? So now you read romance novels?” she said, but she never received a solid answer, except for a withering stare from Killua before he turned away and headed back to Gon’s bed. Alluka let out an annoyed sigh, dropping her arms to her sides. 

Lately, Killua just wasn’t the same, and he was starting to miss their practices together. With the privacy ban gone, Killua spent more time with Gon than he ever did before. He missed one practice, and then he missed all of them, and so once again, Alluka’s routine was thrown off. 

Alluka left Gon’s bedchamber and that stuffy air that smelled of sickness. That night she laid awake in her bed, reflecting on everything she refused to acknowledge before. She tried so hard to pretend that everything was all right between her and her brother. It was starting to feel like her efforts were a bother to the both of them, and the question became, “Why bother?” Gon made Killua happy. Killua didn’t need his younger sister anymore to watch out for him. Truthfully, Alluka couldn’t remember a time in their lives when Killua was genuinely as happy as he was now, for so long a period as well. 

_Maybe I remind him too much of home_ , she wondered. _Maybe all my efforts are just frustrating to his progress. Killua never wanted to be a general, and here I am trying to test him like he is one. I just remind him of the things he never wanted to be_.

Alluka was just there… ruining Killua’s chances of moving on… But perhaps she was just too desperate to stick to the way things were. She always struggled with _change_ , and moving to Nakula was more than a shock to her. It took weeks to get used to it, until she started to see the beauty in not having to stress over every little thing she did. Padokea had stifled her freedom, more than she cared to admit. 

And though she might still be in line to inherit her father’s position, living in Nakula put a hold on that whole affair. Still, it didn’t stop her from worry incessantly about it, and how her destiny played out in her life.

The newest part of her life was none other than the Emperor, though, and he was gone for _months_. 

Chrollo intended to be gone for no more than a few weeks, but things changed, and he was demanded elsewhere. That “elsewhere” was yet to be mentioned to those at the palace, but unbeknownst to them all, he was on the brink of the former Padokea Empire. 

The rebellion was a facade to cover the assault on his soldiers securing the border of Killua and Alluka’s homeland. After everything that had happened with Silva Zoldyck, fealty was sworn vindictively, and grudges still stood within the proud members of their race. Explosives went up, and it wasn’t until several thousand were dead that Chrollo and Hazama heard word of it.

As he pored over the death count, and the lists upon lists of names responsible for this, he was interrupted by a telegram from Nakula. He could only think of one thing to make this all better, but the thought of Gon instantly sprung up a dozen other issues revolving around _Prince Killua_.

He tried his best to look grateful as the poor courier scurried off out of his quarters. Hazama’s eyes followed him from where he was speaking with a native Yorbia on the details of the rebellion—all Padokea Empire apologists, and angry citizens of Yorbia who were simply distraught at having their patriotism conflicted with loyalty for the Empire as a whole. 

“Who’s it from?” he asked Chrollo.

“Just a bird,” he murmured. “I have one of the kitchen staff looking after Gon while I’m gone.”

He slipped his letter opener under the adhesive and cut it.

“I haven’t heard from Gon at all, though. I expected to hear from him,” he confessed, disappointed that his brother hadn’t thought to send so much as a simple memo about how he’s been. “You know how he gets sometimes when I’m gone…”

Hazama dismissed the Yorbia from the room, and once the door was closed, he said, “I imagine Killua being there improves his mood a lot, though, don’t you think?”

“Don’t _mention it_ ,” he muttered, glaring up at Hazama before settling his eyes on the first word of the telegram. “Oh,” he breathed, pinching his fingers to his chin as he looked up at Hazama and gestured for him to come nearer, and read the note from over his shoulder.

> _Your Majesty,_
> 
> _As it is, the young prince has been suffering from a violent fever since the moment you left. He is just now recovering from what I hear, as I was not allowed down his corridor when the illness struck. He and the Padokean Prince were quarantined, though Prince Killua seems to be in perfect health._
> 
> _Prince Gon’s esteemed doctor informed the entire staff of Gon’s condition to ensure that we not worry. He only ever did so after two weeks, and before then, refused any question to sending word to you about it. As it has been several months, and he continues to fret that should you get word of this, you wouldn’t hesitate to return against the greater responsibility you have in Yorbia._
> 
> _Your loyal servant_

Chrollo crumpled the telegram between his fingers and shoved it onto the desk. He pushed himself to his feet, startling Hazama back. 

“Before you get all up-in-arms—” Hazama started, hands raised as if to calm the Emperor.

Instead, Chrollo’s fury simmered to a rolling boil that sent the papers from his desk flying. Of everything he considered despisable, dishonesty was one of the highest crimes, and not only that, but this physician had been _hiding_ the truth from him for _months_.

The papers descended in a flurry. Chrollo stood among them, seething.

“Chrollo—”

“I’ve always loathed that man’s sanctimony,” he hissed, hands on his hips. He gestured sharply to Hazama, who watched with wide eyes as Chrollo snarled, “Believing himself to be in the right when fidelity to me is—Does he see his position _superior_ to my own? _Clearly_ , if he decides what is good for me before thinking to tell me the _truth_.”

“Please take a moment to breathe,” Hazama requested, and despite Chrollo’s boiling fury, he turned to his advisor with a huff, and another deep exhale. When he was thoroughly quieted, Hazama continued, “Do you not think, though, that he may have a point? What is your first instinct upon hearing this?”

“To hang him.”

“Well, after that.”

Chrollo fidgeted like a child, turning away with a pitiful sneer. When it came to Gon, he couldn’t help it. They were both raised together as children, and sometimes, he still played the spoilt child he sometimes insisted Gon was. But Chrollo never thought of Gon as a… _beloved toy_ because Gon would always be his brother, and Chrollo would always be Gon’s caretaker. And that was just how things were.

“To go back to him,” he murmured quietly, half-hoping Hazama hadn’t heard it. It was exactly what Gon’s doctor suspected. 

“We have bigger things to handle now than Gon’s illness. He’s in good hands, and will be well taken care of,” Hazama reassured him. 

“You read the telegram—it’s been _months_. Months, Hazama! And I- I miss him so terribly my heart aches to think about him in that state,” he confessed, breath hitching as he tried to quell the burning sensation behind his eyes. His sorrows twisted into anger again, “And now I know that when I’m not there, all he claims to have is _Killua_. Killua this, Killua that. You know I never approved of this from the start.”

“Very well, indeed.”

Chrollo turned away again, pinching his lip between his fingers as he thought of Killua again. They were dealing with Padokean resistance. _Oh no._

“Oh gods, Hazama,” Chrollo breathed. “I see what you mean.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, genuinely confused. He hadn’t thought he implied anything until Chrollo turned back with a look of distress on his face.

“We need to punish the rebellion, yes, but… we can’t just leave the citizens to come to their own conclusions and start up again,” he said. He set his jaw tight and said, “Silva’s heirs must pay for their peoples’ treason.”

Hazama didn’t pretend to look surprised, because he knew that would be the case as soon as the rebellion shifted to the Padokean border. During that time, Chrollo merely pretended it would never happen, and so he intentionally forgot about it. He tried to protect himself from not only the pain of potentially losing Gon in the process, but also the fact that he had grown rather fond of Alluka’s company.

They fell into tense silence before Chrollo awkwardly dismissed himself. “Tell Kurapika to run a bath for me,” he demanded of the Yorbia servant assigned to guide him wherever he needed to go. “Fetch me once you do.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the girl said, bowing to him before running off to find Kurapika in Chrollo’s chambers.

Chrollo never used to take baths. As a child, they scared him, and the fact that Gon loved them so much sent Chrollo into fits of worry and so he would demand to sit alongside Gon’s tub to ensure that he wouldn’t drown as a kid. 

He remembered the days when his water was filled with suds, all the floaty toys disappearing in the tactile fog. They would have fake water wars that involved a navy fleet on either side—Gon would always claim the wooden duck. He had better control of his nymphal magic as a child, and so they’d play it like chess on the water. Chrollo would let Gon win time and time again, because he would sacrifice his entire fleet drowning if it meant making Gon smile triumphantly like that.

Nowadays, he bathed without reservation. The moment Kurapika was gone from the room, he would float before sinking. He would hold his breath for as long as he could, and pretend he was anything but alive because if he was to overcome his fears—even drowning—he would have to face it in the worst of times, and the best.

The water was pale purple around him, colored from the bath soap Kurapika used to lift that heavy, soothing, lavender aroma from it. Chrollo stared at the ceiling for five seconds before submerging himself. The bathroom was quiet all except for the crackle of the rich candle wicks that were lit around him. He stayed underneath long beyond the point of burning lungs.

His eyes opened underwater, and he grasped the edges of the tub to keep himself from lunging out of it. His mouth fell open like a fish breathing, but all that came out was one last bubble before he gave in and forced himself out of the water, panting and gasping. 

His heavy black hair blanketed his shoulders as he coughed and waited for the adrenaline to subside. The way his heart raced reminded him that he was only human, despite the way his followers tended to worship him.

. . .

There was a man in the palace who the Emperor trusted just as much as he trusted his own advisor. That man was the Captain of his Imperial Guard.

The Imperial Guard was a distinguished troop founded by the Emperor’ long-since-dead relative who conquered a great span of the globe centuries before Emperor Chrollo took his first breath of life. His title had been Nakula of House Nakula, First of His Name, Founder of the modern Imperial Guard, Emperor of All The Known World. His titles went on and on, as did his stories in elaborate legends that Hazama used to read to Chrollo and Gon when they were children. 

His relative founded her empire on the name of their people: the House of Nakula. Both Chrollo and Gon were chained to the legends, and the downfall of Emperor Nakula’s reign. Their mother’s reign started the thunder that Chrollo would bring in her later years, adamant on scorching an even brighter trail than the one her ancestors created for the world. 

There were flaws along Emperor Nakula’s stories, the chief among them being her personality, her values, her disinterest in All The Known World as it was. She was selfish, biased, and unjust—everything Chrollo wished she wasn’t. But… selfishness seemed to run in the family, and she couldn’t quite escape that humanistic trait. 

But when it came to her work with the refined Imperial Guard, Emperor Nakula succeeded. It consisted of an elite group of knights destined to protect and honor House Nakula. Emperor Nakula was a fighter more than anything, which evolved into being a conquerer, always at the frontline with her men and women. The Imperial Guard evolved as well, and emerged from their underground nature to become the Guards they were today.

The Captain of the Imperial Guard was Uvogin, who served Chrollo’s mother in his younger years, and was promoted upon her passing due to Chrollo’s childish fascination when he was small. Uvogin was older, wiser, and merely amused by all of the ways Chrollo admired him. He caught Chrollo when he fell, and ensured that he was well kept after by the rest of Imperial Guard. Their loyalty was unquestioned, which was why they often accompanied him on journeys outside of the palace gates.

Chrollo always entrusted Uvogin with Gon, despite all of his misgivings about staying behind when his Emperor was away. 

“Urgent message from His Majesty to Captain Uvogin,” the courier informed the guard at the palace gate.

The guard passed it along to a servant at the palace door, who then tracked down the Captain where he was speaking with the guards on the outskirts of the Prince’s corridor. “What is it, I’m rather busy,” he said gruffly to the servant, who held up the silver platter the message sat on. 

He’d been working with Emperor Chrollo long enough to recognize her handwriting on the top of the envelope. He took it up in his hands and thanked the servant before dismissing himself from the guards to read the letter in private.

He broke Chrollo’s wax seal and unfolded the paper. 

As Captain Uvogin read through Chrollo’s demands, Killua moved his knight to claim Gon’s queen. “Check-and-mate,” Killua sang, and laughed as Gon let out an annoyed groan that turned into a cough. Killua nudged the glass of water closer to Gon. “Do you wanna go again?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so good at chess. I’ve been playing chess since I could hold the pieces,” Gon whined.

Killua shrugged and said, “I don’t know. My general back at home enjoys playing it on occasion. I guess I’m just so used to losing against him…”

“So you’re just saying that I’m easy to beat in comparison to him?” Gon laughed, and Killua leant back on his hands with a guilty smile. Gon looked down bashfully, but perked up faster than ever. “One more game! I’ll beat you this time, I swear it!”

“Oh? And if you don’t?” Killua asked cheekily, laughing when Gon’s giddy smile straightened into a flat stare.

“That’s for the winner to decide,” Gon said, and it was Killua’s turn to turn pink at the implication. He recovered fast, though.

“I’d like to see you conquer me,” Killua snickered.

“I’d like to see that as well,” he agreed, too set on rearranging the board to see the way Killua smiled eagerly at the image Gon was giving him.

Killua was just joining him in fixing the board when the doors to Gon’s sitting room were flung open. Gon looked up from the board, blue eyes curious until Killua turned to see the familiar head of the Imperial Guard walking towards them. 

“Uvogin—is something the matter?” Gon asked, preparing to stand, but Uvogin raised a hand to reassure him that he could stay where he was.

“I need to have a word with Killua, if that’s all right with you, my prince,” Uvogin said, and Killua’s eyes narrowed, taking in the fact that he was outnumbered. Uvogin might have been a polite fellow, but the fact that he came with numbers suggested that this wasn’t going to be a friendly encounter. Killua learned that from his father. 

Gon stood against Uvogin’s reassurances. “May I accompany him? What’s this about?”

“It is nothing that should concern you, my prince,” he said, and gestured a hand to Killua. “My lord, if I may?”

Killua looked up at where Gon was now scowling at his brother’s Captain. “Does Chrollo have something to do with this,” he demanded, voice unwavering. 

Uvogin lowered his hand then, and clasped it behind his back. “No. It is nothing serious,” he told Gon. 

His stoney structure had Gon wavering, until he eventually sat back down while Killua stood up and followed Uvogin out of the sitting room. They passed the wall of familial portraits that all seemed to stand and watch Killua being escorted by the Imperial Guard. 

In the corridor, they continued walking, and descended the steps to the first floor. Killua asked once, “What’s this about?” and didn’t ask again, because no one answered him. 

Eventually, they were outside, and Killua was met with the shock of finding Alluka out there with a group of guards outside of a military grade carriage. 

“This may be a surprise to you both,” Uvogin started as Killua hurried to stand beside his sister, sharing a nervous look with her before Uvogin went on, slowly. “But… it seems there’s been Padokea resistance on the border. The details are unknown to me, but it’s spread. There has been eight thousand casualties as a result of the explosions, and the fires they caused.”

“Dear gods,” Alluka whispered. “When was this?”

“Again, I don’t know the details. There have been rumors that the rebellion Chrollo went to clear up was simply a ruse, but the attack was so catastrophic that not many escaped the area to speak of it. I doubt word of it would have reached here with any sort of reliability without an official’s seal of truth on it,” Uvogin explained.

“What can be done?” Killua asked, shaking his head. “Who started it? What can we do?”

Uvogin fell silent, and watched them quietly as Alluka rubbed a hand over her face and mouth. Killua looked between them, confused. “What? What is it?” he demanded. 

“We were brought here to stop this from happening,” Alluka said, eyes on the ground. “As long as we were assumed to be in danger of mistreatment, our father and our country wouldn’t have risked a rebellion.”

“The Emperor would hate for anything to happen to either of you,” Uvogin said. “But he cannot ignore the promises he made to your father. Should this happen, one or both of you would have to be publicly beaten and executed to assert the Emperor’ control.”

Killua’s stomach dropped. He knew what that meant. He knew that this would be a Strike One for his people. His journey to Nakula was filled with conversations about this with Alluka as they contemplated the chances of this happening. Alluka insisted on being the one to go, but the truth of the matter was this: Alluka would be Strike Two. The last strike before the Emperor would be forced to assert his power elsewhere. 

Killua was no longer the heir, or did he want to be. That was never the plan to begin with. He was loved by his people, yes, but he wasn’t exciting or particularly _powerful_. He was an apprentice to a general. People recognized him on the streets, but he wasn’t a first son—nor as Alluka. It would be a loss, and the severity of killing Killua would make it possible for them to believe that Emperor Chrollo would do the same to Alluka.

“We cannot have Killua executed,” Alluka said gravely. “You know what would happen if you did. It has to be me.”

“I appreciate that you understand your duty as the Emperor’ pawn, but he requested you both to be transported there,” Uvogin explained, shaking his head. “You just have to trust that by the time you get there, something will have been sorted out. Gods know we’re all hoping the same, for Gon’s sake and His Majesty.”

Killua looked back to the carriage and realized that this was urgent, meaning that they were leaving _now_ and no later. “And what will you tell Gon when I don’t come back from this meeting?” he asked, turning back to look at the reservation on Uvogin’s face. He could tell that Uvogin was desperately trying to hide his worries about _that_ conversation.

“Whatever I can to make this easy for him,” he replied, steeling himself. “Now, there’s no time to waste.”

Despite their civility, Killua knew they were prisoners. They had been since they got there, but somewhere along the way—specifically, when his way merged with Gon’s—he forgot that. This was what Zoldyck family was to the Emperor, nothing more, nothing less, and that was what they and the Empire needed to see. 

So, as they took their places in the carriage side-by-side, Killua tried to stop his hands from shaking by clasping them together on his lap. He squeezed his fingers so hard they ached, and his jaw ticked where he had his teeth clenched together. _So this is how I’m going to die, is it?_ he thought to himself. _Father would be so disappointed that I died lying down_. 


	9. Chapter 9

The moment Killua left the room, the doors were left open, and Gon walked out to follow them. He barely got a step down the hall when one of his guards said, “My prince, you cannot follow them. Captain’s orders.”

Gon steeled himself and wiped the horrendous sneer from his face so that when he turned, he looked just as innocent as ever. “My apologies. He never clarified that to me. I’ll be off to my room then,” he declared, and passed the guards and the sitting room door. 

They followed him and remained posted outside of his room. When he moved to close the doors, they didn’t stop him like they used to, and so he quietly shut them before racing across the room to where he stashed the knotted curtain Killua tore from his balcony door the night they snuck out. He sprinted to the balcony, bundling up the fabric so that by the time he reached there, all he had to do was tie the curtain as securely as possible to the railing to create a makeshift ladder.

He yanked on it with all his might and it refused to budge, so he tossed the rest of it over. 

Gon glanced over the railing, suddenly wary of the distance. Just as he was about to wimp out, a hand slid over his own and secured him to the curtain fabric. Gon followed the tanned skin up to the face of his own imaginary Killua.

“I’ve done this a dozen times before,” he told Gon, the glow of his smile twisting Gon’s stomach into knots. “You can do it. I’ll be here to help you.”

It was so different from every other imaginary conversation he had with Killua. He was struck by the similarities, and how much he wished the _real_ Killua was with him now helping him along. 

He climbed up onto the railing, and grabbed hold of the curtain as he let his feet dangle over the edge. Killua’s hands came to his shoulders, massaging the tension out of them. “Take it slow—the fabric’s silky. Twist it around your wrist like this to keep a good grip,” he said, and watched as Gon eased himself off of the railing. “I’m in danger, Gon—if you ever want to see me again—” Killua started, shaking his head as Gon rested his feet on the opposite side of the railing, between the dowels separating them. 

Gon surged forward and kissed the soft, gentle lips of his illusion. “I’m going to do everything I can to protect you,” Gon promised. He let out a shaky breath as he prepared for the plunge, and down he went, across the span of his balcony and the ground. Once he landed, he looked up and found that Killua had disappeared.

“Prince Gon?!” a guard shouted far down the length of the building. Gon jumped, still clutching onto the curtain as if he was still falling. “Prince Gon!” the man shouted, and all of Gon’s instincts told him to _run_.

He took off sprinting in the opposite direction, arms pumping and feet beating against the grass as he ran. He skidded over the gravel walkway in the garden, changing direction, and pushing himself off around the edge of the hedges and—

—straight into Knuckle Bine, and a… lovely looking gentlemen holding onto his arm.

“Gon!” Knuckle squeaked, and the stranger yelped in shock, ducking behind Knuckle as Gon panted hard, trying to catch his breath. “What are you—”

“The Prince is in here—I saw him come this way,” a guard’s voice sounded on the outskirts of the garden hedge maze. Gon’s entire being seized up in fear, and he frantically clutched at Knuckle’s arm and began dragging him along. The stranger followed suit.

“What’s this? What’s going on?” the guy asked, and Gon hissed for him to be quiet.

They disappeared into the maze Gon knew like the back of his hand. He and Knuckle wasted many hours running its course, and so it was only a matter of losing the guards in it. Knuckle and the woman stopped asking questions as the matter grew more dire—avoiding the guards, listening to them shout for Gon, worries about “What will the Captain think when he finds out…?”

They escaped through the back of the maze in the time it would have taken one of the guards to think to run along the side of it. They stopped for a breather, and just as they did, Gon looked up to find Killua among them, pointing towards the front of the palace grounds.

A carriage was leaving.

“Killua’s in there,” Gon said, pointing to it. 

Knuckle turned to look, and the guy yelped, “ _Thee_ Lord Killua? Wait a moment, my prince, shouldn’t you really be—”

“What’s he doing in a _military_ carriage?” Knuckle interrupted. 

“I don’t know,” Gon said, exasperated. “Uvogin came in demanding to speak with him. I think he lied to me about it having to do with Chrollo. I think something happened—something _Padokea_ happened.”

Knuckle’s mind worked fast to comprehend what Gon was suggesting. They all heard about the rebellions in Yorbia, the neighbor to Killua and Alluka’s home country. Yorbia used to be apart of the Padokea Empire, until the Emperor claimed it by force, tearing it from its allegiance with the Padokea. It wasn’t a huge loss for their people in the end, as the Emperor treated them just as fairly as all other nations, but it was the start of the Padokea Empire’s fall.

“You think…? Oh no, Gon,” Knuckle said.

“I need a horse,” Gon said.

“A _horse?_ Gon, you can’t travel that distance if they really are going—” Knuckle started, and just then his friend spoke up.

“I can help you get a horse. I’m a bit of a rider myself—if anyone can catch up to the carriage, it’s my girl,” he said.

“Your… _girl?_ ” Gon repeated.

Knuckle rolled his eyes and said, “Shoot’s a professional jockey. You know how my parents love to gamble.”

“Ah,” Gon said, and was promptly dragged off by Shoot hurrying them all to the garrison stables.

Shoot McMahon was, as Knuckle mentioned, a professional jockey. He was in love with everything to do with racehorses, and had since he was a child. He was racing since he was old enough to, and was evidently famous for it around these parts. Gon wasn’t much of a fan of horse racing, but he tried out everything that interested Knuckle. Knuckle’s enthusiasm changed Gon’s perspective of the event, but it was the only time he ever went—they snuck out to go together because every time he went with Chrollo, the social construct insisted that he stay quiet and impassive, and talk amongst snooty people who meant nothing to him. 

But the fact that Shoot was a jockey meant that he owned a racehorse fast enough to catch up to Killua’s carriage.

They jogged up to the stables, and Shoot gave the stablehand a sweet smile and said, “Just swinging by to show the Prince my girl!”

“She’s just where you left her, sir,” the stablehand said, eyes wide as he took in the fact that Gon was there. He bowed to Gon, and stepped aside as if afraid to get too close. Gon caught the boy’s eye and raised a finger to his lips—a code of silence. 

Once they were out of sight from the stablehand, they ran to the gate where Shoot’s horse came to greet him, nudging her nose between the bars to rest against Shoot’s waiting hand. “My Prince, meet Rafflesia. Rafflesia, I’m pleased to introduce you to my Prince Gon.”

“Rafflesia?” Gon hummed and Shoot nodded. He clasped his hands together. “So how does this work? Same as any horse, right?”

Shoot gave him a strange look, and raised an eyebrow at Knuckle. A worried look came to his face, and Gon realized he overstepped some sort of line. “What is it? I’ll be riding her, won’t I?”

“Are you kidding?” Knuckle said, jaw dropping. “You, riding Rafflesia?”

“What? What’s so weird about it?” Gon said, squinting at him. “Then what’s the damn plan here, mind tuning me in?”

“Rafflesia is a _Greed thoroughbred_ , my prince,” Shoot said, “and I mean no disrespect when I say that it’s impossible for a… standard rider to comprehend the complexity of riding a Greed thoroughbred.”

“I’ve galloped before,” he said self-consciously, and Shoot released a pitiful sigh and shared another look with Knuckle.

In the distance, they heard the guards’ shouts getting closer.

“Look—you two take separate horses to get out of here and avoid the guards,” Shoot started. “We won’t know the track Lord Killua is on until I find them, and I _will_ find them. We stay on their track for as long as we can until they stop for the night. Okay?” he said, and the shock on both of their faces had him blushing. “I’ve… overstepped my bounds. I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, not at all. It’s just—you’re brilliant, Shoot,” Knuckle said, and the man smiled sheepishly as he undid the door chains and guided Rafflesia out. 

As Shoot mounted his horse, flowing cloak and all, Knuckle pulled his horse from the stables alongside Gon and found that the guards had already come to check the stables. Knuckle mounted his horse, preparing to book it at the closest opportunity, but Gon hissed for him to slow down and take his horse’s reigns. 

“ _What?_ ” Knuckle hissed.

“She’s not my usual steed—say you’re getting it… getting it for Machi!”

“The _nurse?_ Gon, what the absolute fu—” 

Gon hissed for him to be quiet, and ducked between Shoot and the stable wall. He yelped, startled by the fact that Gon was now hiding among the violet fabric of his cloak as the guards came their way. 

“Good afternoon, sir,” the guard said to Shoot. “Good afternoon, Lord Bine. How are your days going?”

“Fine, sir,” Shoot said, covering for Knuckle’s nearly-visible nerves. “What can we do for you?”

“We’re inquiring about the whereabouts of the prince. Have you come across him? Has he come to you—Lord Bine?”

“We haven’t seen him, no,” Shoot said, giving a worried shake of his head. “Why? Has he gone missing?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am. Just on the premises, it seems,” the guard explained. Knuckle’s eyes trailed after the rest of the man’s group, who were peering into each stall to check and see that Gon wasn’t hiding among the hay. When they came close to the nearest stall, Gon tugged on Shoot’s purple cloak to shield himself. Shoot’s cheeks flushed a little, but he gave no other indication that anything was wrong.

“Well, we do hope you find him,” Knuckle said, voice surprisingly strong. “I’ve been wanting to show him a book I read from the newest shipment in the library.”

“Will do, sir. You two have a nice rest of your day,” the guard said, tipping his hat to them before moving along. 

Their escape went smoothly after that. They left the stables, and Gon mounted his horse before any of the guards left the building to catch him. “I’ll race ahead and catch up with them. This’ll be a lot of back and forth for a while, I imagine.”

“I know they’re heading to Yorbia, but I can’t… Is it possible to travel all that way on _horseback?_ ” Gon asked as they approached the gates. None of them could reply, because another issue came to their attention.

The gate was closed, and two guards stood manning it.

“ _Shit_ ,” Gon huffed, clenching his fists around the reigns. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Shoot insisted, spurring his horse into a fast trot ahead of them. 

Gon glanced over at Knuckle and raised an eyebrow. Knuckle turned away, ears red. “He’s somethin’ else, isn’t he?” Gon teased.

“Oh, shut it,” Knuckle muttered, but he couldn’t stop his smile. 

“So you two met at the racetracks then?”

“More or less…” he said, scratching the back of his head as they rode up to where Shoot was speaking with the guards.

“We have orders to keep the Prince on palace grounds,” the guards said. “We cannot let you through with him.”

“That’s ridiculous! We’re just going out for a stroll,” Shoot insisted.

“I beg your pardon, but the Prince hasn’t gone past these gates in over a year, miss,” the other guard said. “I find it hard to believe that this is just a ‘stroll.’”

“What say my word against the Captain?” Gon asked, and the guards clamped their mouths shut, looking to one another worriedly. The Captain would have their asses mounted above his fireplace if they let the Prince out. It had been that way ever since the assassination attempt that nearly cost Gon his life. “I demand you let us pass! Doesn’t my word mean anything in the matter?”

“It does, My Prince, but… these orders are from the Emperor,” one said, and the knowledge of this had Gon’s face burning in anger and embarrassment. Of course his brother was behind his palace isolation.

Gon twisted his mouth into a fine, thin line and thrust his reigns into Knuckle’s hands. “Take my horse,” he hissed, and swung his leg over the back of his saddle. He dropped onto the ground, and the guards tried their best to remain impassive as Gon stormed past them and to the gates. 

“My Prince—” they started, but Gon was already hefting the lock up and pushing the gate out. “You can’t—!”

_Wow, this is far heavier than I imagined_ , he huffed internally, digging his heels into the asphalt as he shoved it open. The hinges creaked, and he held it as far as he couldn’t so that Shoot and Knuckle could pass with his horse. The guards stayed put—they weren’t permitted to touch the Prince. It was one of Chrollo’s many rules. 

“Thank you, for making this _far_ more difficult than it had to be,” Gon said to them, stepping away from the gate and watching it swing closed.

They were barely gone five minutes before shouting rose up, and the guards had to weakly explain what the Prince had done. But, the Prince and his party were already galloping away, as far as they could with Shoot in the lead with Rafflesia. From what the guards said, Shoot knew it was foolish of him to side with the Prince, but for Knuckle’s sake, he could risk a little adventure. 

Shoot caught sight of the military carriage a half hour from then, after several missed turns and wrong-ways. Certain that it was the one carrying Silva’s sons, he backtracked and found Gon and Knuckle and the fork in the road where he diverged. 

They raced to meet Shoot, and he was out of breath as he explained, “I’ve found him. They’re on the road heading south. To Yorbia, I imagine. You were right.”

“What are we waiting here for then?” Gon asked, preparing to pass her, but Shoot crossed into his way. A ballsy move, but Gon could respect that, despite how eager he was to keep sight of Killua’s carriage.

“None of us are in riding gear,” he said. “You’ll have a sore bum before we get far. And… if you _truly_ want to risk it… I imagine they’ll be going through bandit territory. They won’t mess with a military carriage, but they’ll be interested. Wait along after it’s passed.”

It meant that they’d get the brunt of most bandit encounters, if they decided to have a chat with them. Gon never encountered a bandit before, but he read stories of them, and news articles, and swallowed hard at the thought that he’d have to deal with them. 

Gon looked at his best friend, who turned pale at the thought. “What… are you suggesting?”

“Bringing my cousin, of course,” he said. “We’ll get suited up at my place. We’ll lose time, but we can make up for it by riding in the dark to catch up. And—Prince Gon, you have some skill with a sword, yes?”

“Fencing is a bit more different from swordfighting,” he confessed. “I’m better with a gun.”

“Perfect. We’ll sneak something out of my father’s artillery,” he said. “Now come along, we don’t have much time!”

. . .

From the Nakulian Empire’s capitol, it general took a fortnight to travel via carriage to Yorbia. During that time, hordes of Captain Uvogin’s men were searching the countryside for Prince Gon’s party. It didn’t take long for them to realize this, and so they took to hiding when they started to catch up. This happened at night, when the military carriage stopped for a short several-hour break before continuing on again. 

After two nights of this, the Captain’s men caught up, informed the military carriage group to keep a look out for the Prince’s party, and trailed far behind to make their chances of finding the Prince greater. In the process, they wound up stuck between the two groups, just barely within the range of being undetected.

The military carriage crossed the Yorbia border during midday, a fortnight from when they left Nakula. Shalnark McMahon, Shoot’s cousin, led the way to the soldiers at the border. Security was highest now that the threat of the Padokea had everyone on their toes. 

The head of the soldiers was equipped with a slip of paper, and as they all approached the woman, her eyes landed on Gon, and turned the paper up to him. It was an image of the Prince. 

“By order of the Emperor we’ve been directed to hold you here until the second military party comes to return you to the capitol,” she declared, and took in the party that Gon was with. “The rest of you will give your statements to His Majesty.”

“I _told you_ this was an awful idea,” Shalnark hissed at his cousin.

“So what if it was!” he cried indignantly as Gon pushed forward, approaching the general. 

The woman produced another slip of paper, this time with the Emperor’s wax seal on the front. “From His Majesty,” she declared. 

Gon knew what was in it before he even opened it, jaw tense and eyes burning. In that moment, he _hated_ his brother. He never disliked Chrollo so much as he did right then. He could spend two weeks traveling across the Empire and Chrollo wouldn’t bat an eyelash. He was just a _toy_ to his brother that needed to be put back in its box.

Gon clenched his fist around the letter and tossed it at the general. “Take me to him,” he demanded, spitting the words with such force that the general looked, back appalled.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“Take me to Chrollo. Where is he,” he hissed. When the general didn’t answer, he insisted with more force, drawing his sword. “What do you think your chances are, _General_? I may not be as good a fighter as you, but if you so much as touch me, the Emperor will have your head. I could kill you and all of your men just by telling you to stand still, it won’t hurt a bit.”

“ _Gon_ ,” Knuckle hissed.

“Chrollo will kill all of you if I’m not there,” Gon insisted, jabbing the tip of his sword against the general’s chest. “Read his fucking letter for yourself. I’m _going_ with you all.”

“Will he really?” Shoot whispered, looking wide-eyed at Knuckle.

“He’s tried killing Knuckle before,” Gon replied, retracting the sword and sheathing it. He took the reigns and tested his boundaries. The general didn’t stop him when he surged forward. Gon turned to Shoot and said, “Ask him yourself,” before spurring his horse into a gallop. 

. . .

Emperor Chrollo’s routine was just the same as it was back in Nakula, which meant that Alluka knew something was the matter when he didn’t send Kurapika to fetch her from his evening walk. The Emperor liked to share tea with her after his evening meal, and he was always so punctual when he was around. 

Alluka should have expected the Emperor’s routine would experience a shift. Somehow, though, arriving in Yorbia didn’t change his habits, or the fact that both she and Killua were never treated like prisoners. The only difference was that this time around, they were accompanied by guards again and watched around every corner to prevent them from possible escape.

_Sure is starting to_ feel _like we’re prisoners after all_ , Alluka hummed, wondering if this was the reason why Chrollo never sent for her. _Perhaps he’s distancing himself because he knows I’ll be the one killed_.

Alluka accepted her fate the moment the Emperor’ troops came to pick her and Killua up to live in the capitol. It was better to accept the worst of her fate than to hope for the best and be sorely disappointed. But… she hadn’t seen Chrollo in _months_ , and so she asked to see Kurapika.

Kurapika was dressed in the latest Yorbia fashion that was within the boundaries of his status as an imperial servant. With the current state of things, his usual flowing garbs were covering a solid leather vest and shoulder pads that were curved into sharp edges. His shawl was hooked around his shoulders, and draped over his back like a cape. He looked as if he was ready for war the moment the shawl was dispensed. 

“I hope the journey here was… satisfactory,” he said.

“More or less,” Alluka confessed. “I didn’t do much packing.”

Kurapika laughed and asked what she needed of him. She confessed that she wanted to speak with the Emperor, and so Kurapika reluctantly agreed and turned to lead the way. 

She noted that the belt around his waist held two short sheaths on his lower back—daggers. The realization startled her. She was never privy to the training that the Emperor’s servants might go through, and somehow, she neglected the idea that Kurapika might have been adept at combat at all.

“You and Killua both seem rather docile from what the guards have told me,” Kurapika commented on the walk to the Emperor’ quarters. Alluka pulled her attention back up from the sheaths. “How are _you_ fairing?”

“Fine. Whatever happens, happens,” Alluka confessed. “I’m more or less worried for Killua’s sake, though. I imagine Gon will bring him back from the dead just to kill him again for leaving.”

Kurapika remained quiet, but the humor brought a soft smile to his face. 

He rapped on the Emperor’ door before opening it. “You have a guest,” he alerted Chrollo, but as they stepped inside, the room was empty. “He was just in the bath earlier—he should have been out by now,” Kurapika explained to Alluka.

One of the nearby servants informed Kurapika that Chrollo was still in there. “He hasn’t called for us yet, miss,” the girl explained.

Alluka followed after Kurapika to the set of doors that separated the bedroom from a short set of stairs leading down to the washroom. He called for the Emperor, but there wasn’t a sound in response, so he told Alluka to wait at the top of the stairs before hurrying down to check on Chrollo. 

Alluka started down the stairs before she even heard Kurapika shriek. 

She ran down the remainder of the steps, and skidded into the bathroom, exclaiming, “What is it? What’s happened?” but her questions were distracted by Kurapika hauling Chrollo out of the bath water, sitting up over the surface coughing and sputtering.

“ _Kurapika—!_ ” Chrollo yelled, hand over his chest as he gasped for air. He sounded… _furious_.

“I—You were—I thought you were drowning,” Kurapika squeaked, face pale as he looked at Alluka, standing tense in the middle of the bathroom.

Kurapika scrambled away from the edge of the tub, picking up a fallen candle, and tossing towels where the water sloshed out. “I’m—I’m so sorry. My apologies—”

Chrollo cleared his throat, and braced on the edge of the tub. “It’s… fine, Kurapika. No apologies.”

He stood from the tub and stepped out onto the towel Kurapika laid out for him. Alluka blushed and turned her back, crossing her arms as she realized that she was now facing a mirror that put Chrollo’s eyes over her shoulder. He was watching her as Kurapika dried him. 

“It is I who should be apologizing. I didn’t intend to worry either of you,” he said quietly, and the resignation in his voice had Alluka raising an eyebrow. Since when did Chrollo ever apologize? “I got carried away.”

They were all quiet for a moment before Kurapika stood behind him with a robe and drew it up over the Emperor’s shoulders. He tied the waistband and, after eyeing Alluka once more, Kurapika dismissed himself up the stairs.

Chrollo walked across the tiles to where Alluka still stood, eyes on the floor. “Kurapika has never walked in on me doing that before. I’m flattered that he acted the way he did,” he confessed with a laugh, reaching a finger up behind his sharp, pointed ear. He scratched at his damp hair a little before facing Alluka.

She was still pale from the adrenaline sucking up her energy. 

“Do not worry about me. I do ridiculous things like that once in a while. Helps me relax,” Chrollo said with a dismissive wave of his hand, stepping away.

“What, drowning yourself?” she scoffed, and cleared her throat when she looked at him and found him frowning. “I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“No, you’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “I do attempt it. More and more frequently it seems. But I would never… I simply push myself to the brink and come back. It reminds me that I’m just as human as the rest of you. It started around the time that we realized that Gon can breathe underwater. We never knew until the two of us had a competition to see who could hold our breaths the longest.”

“Why… would you continue to…?”

“ _Because_ , Alluka—I _am_ as human as the rest of you, which means I don’t have control over everything. If anything, if I can’t control other peoples’ lives, at least I have control over my own,” he said. 

Alluka studied his crystalline eyes and wondered if he was thinking about his brother now. 

“You have control over everything that matters,” she said. “You have everything you could ever need. You’ve made such progress in such a short amount of time. Not many emperors can say the same at the peak of their reign. And—Gon loves you, and you mean so much to Kurapika and Hazama—”

“Yes, and what about you?” he said, voice monotonous. He looked up from his waistband and Alluka startled at the realization that the Emperor was expecting an answer. 

What did it matter if she cared about him? How could she answer, when it was inevitable that she would die soon? Perhaps not today, but maybe the next. But she couldn’t deny how much she admired him, no matter how perfect or imperfect. It was impossible for her to go back to the way her father ran the Empire, not after getting a glimpse of Chrollo’s passion for justice.

“As… a brother, I—I think I might, yes,” she confessed softly.

Chrollo scoffed. “You _‘think_ ’. In what world are you so noncomittal.”

Alluka clasped her hands behind her back and looked away with equal rebutal. “I don’t see why you’re vying for an answer now, of all times.”

“What’s so wrong with a simple yes-or-no answer? Say it—right now,” he demanded, voice rising and echoing against the tiles. 

Alluka resisted the urge to comply. “Because it doesn’t matter.”

As she fell quiet, Chrollo turned away from Alluka and headed for the stairs. It was only after he started to depart that she hadn’t gotten the chance to inquire about the state of her home country’s affairs. 

Alluka hurriedly followed after him, saying, “Have you found any way around it? No one’s spoken to me about the decision.”

“I’ve been _thinking_. And with the rebellion executions I don’t have much time for it,” he remarked, and ordered the servants to dress him for his meeting that evening. 

“I’ve been thinking as well,” Alluka said.

The weight of it had Chrollo turning to look at her, dragging the servants along with him as they held out undergarments. He stepped into them as he gestured for Alluka to go on. 

“Have any of the members of the rebellion looked like Killua or I?”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't come up with names for the nations based off of the show but if any of you have suggestions, let me know!


End file.
